


Defending Elizabeth

by rowanrenault



Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 16:28:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 50,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20763407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowanrenault/pseuds/rowanrenault
Summary: He cannot watch her make a mistake of such magnitude.Darcy: A woman as brilliant, beautiful, and witty as Elizabeth Bennet deserves a good match. One better than her silly cousin, or that irredeemable rake Wickham, who I know to be much different from the image he presents to the world. Can I save her from committing herself to a disastrous marriage?Elizabeth: Considering he finds me merely tolerable, the unpleasant Mr. Darcy is unduly obsessed with the gentlemen who wish to court me. Though I have no intention of marrying Mr. Collins, I find myself inexplicably drawn to the witty Mr. Wickham, in spite of Darcy’s objections. I cannot imagine why Darcy thinks his opinions would sway me, nor can I understand why I cannot stop thinking about the infuriating man.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This book is available in published form on Amazon. https://www.amazon.com/Defending-Elizabeth-Rowan-Renault-ebook/dp/B078FTD35R/
> 
> I will be posting the entirety of it here, so please don't feel obligated to buy. In the past, I've posted my novels on ff.net as I wrote them. For this one, I'd like to try posting here.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!

"Jane, are you quite sure you would not like another blanket?" Elizabeth Bennet asked her sister.

"I am fine, Lizzy. There is no need to fuss over me."

They rode together in a carriage headed for their home of Longbourn. Jane recently spent several days at the nearby estate of Netherfield after falling ill. Elizabeth also traveled to Netherfield to care for her sister.

"You did not mind so much when Mr. Bingley was doing the fussing," Elizabeth teased.

Jane gave her sister a tolerant smile. "Well, that is a different case entirely."

"If he was not in love with you before, I will wager he is now. He seemed very willing to ensure your every need and whim were catered to."

"He is a lovely man. I am not sure he is in love with me."

"And how do you feel in regards to him?"

Jane blushed. "I do know that."

Elizabeth laughed. "Tell me! We do not keep secrets from one another."

"Oh, Lizzy, I believe he is the finest man of my acquaintance. I can only hope he might return my feelings."

"No hope is necessary. I guarantee he does. You ought to have seen him inquire after you! The man is besotted. Oh, dear. We cannot tell Mama, or she will think it is all her doing."

Mrs. Bennet had sent Jane to Netherfield on horseback in the rain, causing Jane's recent illness.

"You must admit it was the most fortuitous bout of illness."

"Well, I shall give you that. Rather less fortuitous for me."

"Why? What happened?"

"Mr. Bingley's sisters spent the entire time staring at me as if I was some terrible new species of insect. Miss Bingley pretended to befriend me at one point, but only to continue her constant flirting with Mr. Darcy."

"How did Mr. Darcy react?"

"The same way he reacted to all Miss Bingley's flirtations, which is to say not at all. She must be commended for trying. I wonder if they teach such things at the fine school she attended."

"Oh, Lizzy, you must not begrudge them their education."

"I do not, as long as they do not wield it as a weapon. I would prefer they do not consider themselves superior to me. Nor am I superior to them. Can we not all just be people?"

"And what of Mr. Darcy?"

"Him I have no issue feeling superior to."

"It was horrid what he said about you at the meeting house dance. Are you certain you heard him correctly?"

"Indeed I am, and Charlotte Lucas heard the same thing. The man referred to me as ‘tolerable.’”

"At least he did not refer to you as intolerable."

"He is the intolerable one! Do you know he had the nerve to ask me what I was reading one evening? I know he only asked to embarrass me."

"Could it be he was actually interested, Lizzy?"

"I doubt that. Do you think Mr. Darcy is the sort of person who enjoys novels?"

Jane smiled. "Perhaps not."

"Mr. Darcy only enjoys not enjoying anything. I am so relieved to be going home."

"Are you? Did you consider the fact Kitty and Lydia are probably fighting at this very moment, while Mary quotes scripture?"

"Hmm. Perhaps I have been looking at this situation incorrectly. Now I think of it, home sounds much less peaceful. Perhaps we should spend some days at the Lucases'?"

"And you believe their house will be quieter than our own?" Jane sounded skeptical.

"Perhaps not, but at least it will be a different kind of noise than we are used to."

"No, Lizzy, it is to Longbourn we go. Besides, I do not believe anything special is planned. Perhaps we will return to a quiet house."

"It is a possibility. Let us just hope no long-lost relatives come to call."


	2. Chapter 2

Mrs. Bennet was in a state of agitation. As if her attempts to encourage Jane and Mr. Bingley were not enough to thoroughly engage her time, Mr. Bennet had announced that a Mr. Collins would be visiting. Mrs. Bennet had no use for Mr. Collins, whom she considered to be a discourteous upstart determined to see the Bennet girls disinherited. Nonetheless, Mr. Collins was arriving, and Mrs. Bennet refused to allow him to see Longbourn at any other than its very best.

Elizabeth watched her mother bustle about, instructing the maids and checking with the cook. Elizabeth considered extending an offer to help, but she knew her mother well enough to realize such an offer might only serve to turn Mrs. Bennet's ire on her. While Elizabeth sometimes enjoyed vexing her easily-excited mother, it seemed not to be the best time to do so.

"Lord, all this disturbance for a man we care not one whit for!" exclaimed Elizabeth's sister Lydia. "I should hate to see what it will be like when a man visits whose opinion Mama actually cares about!"

"Any men in particular?" Elizabeth teased her sister. Lydia and their other sister, Kitty, were as of late quite fixed on the presence of the militia in the nearby village of Meryton. The two girls spent nearly all their time talking about officers, dressing to attract officers, and traveling to the village to speak with officers. Elizabeth was frankly surprised Lydia even noticed that their mother was agitated.

"Laugh all you want, Lizzy. We shall see which of us finds a husband first," said Lydia, making a face at her sister.

"I cannot imagine a man who would not be captivated by such a countenance,” Elizabeth replied archly.

"Nor can I," said Lydia, and danced off.

Elizabeth's laughter was interrupted by the announcement of a carriage arriving. In spite of Lydia's previous protest, Elizabeth knew her sisters were quite as curious as she to see Mr. Collins, and she quickly informed them of his arrival.

Elizabeth then stopped in her father's study to tell him their guest was arriving. Mr. Bennet's eyes sparkled with the news. Mr. Collins' letter hinted at a degree of foolish ostentation, and Mr. Bennet very much hoped to see this same attitude in the man himself. Few things delighted Mr. Bennet more than other people's foolishness, and Mr. Collins promised to be quite foolish indeed.

The Bennets went outside to meet their guest. The carriage stopped and the door opened. A tall man stepped out. His brown curls were ideally tousled, and drew the eye downwards towards a proud Roman nose. His lips were full, and his chin was perfectly sculpted. Mr. Collins was, in short, one of the most handsome men Elizabeth had ever seen.

She glanced to the right and saw Kitty and Lydia stared at Mr. Collins with matching shocked looks. Mary looked unconcerned, and Jane wore the placid expression which always graced her lovely face. 

Mrs. Bennet had the same amazed look as her youngest daughters.

"Mr. Collins," said Mr. Bennet. "Welcome to Longbourn."

Mr. Collins bowed deeply. "Thank you, sir."

"Allow me to introduce my wife, Mrs. Bennet."

"Mrs. Bennet," said Mr. Collins, in a low, melodious voice. "I cannot tell you the depth of my appreciation for your hospitality."

"Oh, think nothing of it, Mr. Collins," said Mrs. Bennet in a faint voice. "We are so pleased to make your acquaintance. These are my girls."

She introduced her daughters, and each of them curtsied to their cousin. Kitty and Lydia still wore shocked expressions, unable to draw their eyes away from Mr. Collins. Elizabeth noticed Mr. Collins' eyes lingered on Jane. Well, all that proved was his eyesight was perfectly good. What man would not fall in love with Jane upon introduction? Elizabeth mused Mr. Collins was due for a disappointment when he learned of Jane's fondness for Mr. Bingley.

Mr. Collins was invited inside, and the family followed. Elizabeth saw a bit of disappointment in her father's eyes, and took his arm.

"Mr. Collins cannot be pleasing to everyone, can he, Papa?" she said with a smile.

Her father patted her hand. "Give him time, Lizzy. He is still the foolish man who wrote that letter, regardless of how charming your silly sisters might find him."

“I do hope that you are correct; it has been some time since you had any sport.”

“Indeed. I was hoping Mr. Bingley might serve, but he seems to be an amiable young gentleman who will offer me little fun.”

“Poor Papa. How shall you ever survive?”

“We can hope, Lizzy, that the answer to your question just walked through the front door.”

With that, they followed the others back into the house.

***

It had been an odd afternoon. Lydia and Kitty seemed to be wherever Mr. Collins was, although they behaved as if it was a grand coincidence. Mr. Bennet kept casting expectant glances towards Mr. Collins, who had managed to be entirely well-behaved since he arrived. A particular light gleamed in Mrs. Bennet's eyes every time she glanced in Mr. Collins' direction. Elizabeth was interested to see how everyone would behave at dinner.

Mr. Bennet was quite interested in engaging Mr. Collins to determine the man's character. Towards this end, he broached a topic he was certain Mr. Collins would prove anxious to speak of: his patroness.

"You mentioned Lady Catherine de Bourgh in your letter, sir," said Mr. Bennet. "I am unfortunate enough to have never made the acquaintance of the lady. Do tell us of her."

The light that appeared in Mr. Collins' eyes made it clear Mr. Bennet had chosen the topic well. "What is there to say that would do Lady Catherine de Bourgh credit?" cried Mr. Collins. "She is the most affable person whom I have ever had the pleasure to meet. And to meet such a gracious person who is of such elevated rank! If only all people were as agreeable as Lady Catherine, what a fine society it might be!"

Mr. Bennet agreed Lady Catherine sounded like a fine person.

"She is quite superior," Mr. Collins agreed. "Some consider her proud, but I have never seen such a thing. Certainly, she behaves in a way that is appropriate for her rank, but I think that characterization to be quite disingenuous. Is not a lady allowed to be proud of the quality of her character?"

"She sounds like a fine lady," said Mrs. Bennet. "Do you live nearby her?"

"Only a lane separates the parsonage from the fine estate of Rosings Park. Indeed, it is so nearby, I often see Lady Catherine and her daughter Miss Anne de Bourgh riding by in their carriages. I have twice been invited to dine with these two ladies, and I can assure you their manners are even finer than one might expect from such great ladies."

"Does she have any other children?" inquired Mrs. Bennet.

"Miss de Bourgh is an only child, and the heiress to all of Rosings Park and the connected lands."

"She is fortunate for that!" said Mrs. Bennet. "Many girls do not have their own property to precede them. Has she been presented? I admit I do not recognize her name."

"Alas, Miss de Bourgh is of a sickly constitution, so she has not been presented. That is to the benefit of the other young ladies; if Miss de Bourgh were to be presented, she would so far outshine the other girls it would scarcely be just."

Mr. Collins was beginning to speaking more rapidly, and Mr. Bennet sensed the time was ripe to encourage his guest.

"I wonder that such important ladies could spare you," Mr. Bennet said, an astonished look on his face.

"Oh, Lady Catherine is extremely generous in allowing me time to visit with my family," said Mr. Collins, his eyes shining. "And she mentioned how greatly it would please her for me to take a wife."

The Bennet girls shared looks amongst themselves. The joining of Mr. Collins' statements lay bare the reason for his visit, and Elizabeth could tell her younger sisters intended to make full use of this knowledge. Indeed, Lydia's eyelashes, which had already been fluttering at an impressive rate, redoubled their efforts upon hearing Mr. Collins speak of matrimony.

"Ah, a man in want of a wife," said Mr. Bennet, leaning back in his chair.

"It would please Lady Catherine if I were to find a fine woman to make my wife," said Mr. Collins. "Fortunately for me, I possess the ability to provide those elegant little compliments that ladies find so pleasing."

"How fascinating," said Mr. Bennet. "Are these particular attentions studied, or do they arise from the impulse of the moment?"

"I will admit I have always had a particular talent in speaking with ladies. Perhaps it is the light of my soul which people find so pleasing."

"No, I do not think that is it," Lydia whispered to Kitty, earning her a stern look from Jane.

The remainder of the meal passed. Mr. Bennet was pleased with the degree of foolishness Mr. Collins showed. Mrs. Bennet, Lydia, and Kitty were pleased with the decoration Mr. Collins provided to the table, and Elizabeth was pleased Mr. Collins had put her family in such high spirits. If she had only been able to see into the near future, she would have been much less pleased at the arrival of her cousin.


	3. Chapter 3

"Mr. Collins, you look well this morning! I trust your accommodation was to your liking?" Mrs. Bennet asked, full of smiles for her guest.

"Indeed, my dear Mrs. Bennet. I am well rested thanks to your hospitality."

"I do hope we did not tire you out by asking you to read," Mrs. Bennet said.

"Oh, no! I could read from Fordyce's Sermons all evening," said Mr. Collins. "They are so instructive and uplifting. And how intently my cousins listened! It is a credit to you to have raised such pious girls. Why, I thought dear Lydia might float away, so intense was her look of devotion to our Creator!"

Elizabeth barely restrained herself from snorting. Lydia had watched their cousin intently, but Elizabeth knew it had nothing to do with piety. Lydia was simply incapable of comporting herself around a handsome man.

Elizabeth observed Mr. Collins as he and her mother continued speaking. He certainly was handsome--almost too handsome. There was very little character in his face, just perfectly sculpted features. She had to admit she had found him pleasing to look at when he arrived, but that impression was dispelled as soon as he began his raptures over his patroness. Mr. Collins was every bit as silly as Mr. Bennet had hoped for--perhaps even more so. Elizabeth's plan was to enjoy the spectacle until Mr. Collins proposed to whichever of her silly sisters he decided on.

She had noticed Mr. Collins' conversation at dinner seemed to have the opposite effect on her sister, Mary. Mary had not been interested in Mr. Collins in the slightest until dinner. As the meal progressed, Elizabeth saw that her sister paid an increasing amount of attention to Mr. Collins. By the end of the meal, Mary seemed quite as smitten as Lydia and Kitty, although rather less noisy about it.

Elizabeth smiled to herself as she thought of it. Kitty and Lydia were interested in Mr. Collins because he was so very handsome, regardless of his personality. Mary would never have her head turned simply by the way a man looked. However, a man who spoke of God and recited Fordyce's Sermons? That was a man Mary could admire.

Mr. Collins had clearly come to Longbourn looking for a wife. Elizabeth suspected he was totally ignorant of the fact he was currently the hunted, rather than the hunter. Three sets of eyes followed where he went, each girl hoping she would emerge the victor of Mr. Collins' heart.

Mrs. Bennet seemed quite as keen as any of her daughters to know who Mr. Collins would choose. In fact, with the way Mrs. Bennet laughed and fluttered about, one might be forgiven for assuming she was pursuing a suitor as well. Mr. Collins would certainly find himself occupied for the entirety of his stay.

"What a lovely day!" said Mrs. Bennet, looking outside. "Mr. Collins, why do we not take a walk about the property? That way you may see more of the estate, and enjoy the company of your cousins."

"That is a capital idea! I told Lady Catherine I would return with a full description of the estate, so this allows me to keep my word to that fine lady."

"I am certain she would be deeply disturbed if you were not to keep your word in this instance," said Elizabeth with mock seriousness. She heard a snort behind her and did not dare to turn and make eye contact with her father.

"Yes, my dear cousin, I do believe you are correct," said Mr. Collins, completely misreading her tone. "You concern for others speaks highly of your character."

He bowed, then looked up and locked eyes with her. Elizabeth realized, quite too late, that she had made herself a target of Mr. Collins' attention. She cursed her quick tongue, as well as her inability to restrain it when necessary. She counseled herself to be less forthcoming with her wit, at least while Mr. Collins was around. The man seemed entirely incapable of understanding a joke.

Luckily, Lydia, upset at not being in the midst of the conversation, swept in to save Elizabeth.

"Mr. Collins, do escort me outside," she said, taking his arm. "For I do so love the out of doors. It is quite my favorite thing."

Elizabeth refrained from commenting on this, and commended herself for her newly-found restraint.

"Well then, my dear cousin," Mr. Collins said, favoring Lydia with a bright smile, "let us go."

Kitty scurried after them. Elizabeth looked at Jane and nodded her head for Jane to go with Mr. Collins, Lydia, Kitty, and Mrs. Bennet. Elizabeth then found Mary, who had the mistaken idea she would not be going on the walk.

"Come now, Mary, Mr. Collins expressed a desire to speak with each of the Bennet girls. Would you deny him that request? It does not seem charitable of you."

Elizabeth could tell Mary began to waver.

"You do not want Mr. Collins to think you are ill and rush back to check on you, do you? I know you would not wish to interfere with his walk in such a way."

Mary finally allowed she would go on the walk, but only for Mr. Collins' sake. Elizabeth managed to switch out Mary's normal cape, which was quite worn, for the better-quality one which Mary usually reserved for Sundays.

With Elizabeth hurrying Mary along, the girls quickly caught up to the rest of their party.

"...and, would you believe, she was more interested in speaking of the upcoming meeting room dance than she was in listening to my sermon?" Mr. Collins said.

Lydia turned towards him and placed a hand on her chest. "My goodness, Mr. Collins, how could she be so interested in earthly pursuits when you were preaching the word of God?"

Mr. Collins smiled at his cousin again. "You understand me completely, my dear. What an upstanding and pious young lady you have raised, Mrs. Bennet!"

Mrs. Bennet returned his smile. "Yes, it has often been remarked that Lydia is the most reverential of my daughters."

At this, Elizabeth could no longer maintain her countenance, and stopped for a moment, pleading a coughing fit, until she regained control over her frantic laughter.

Elizabeth returned to the group and noticed Mr. Collins was staring appreciatively at Jane.

_Well, the man is obviously not blind_, thought Elizabeth grimly_._

What man would not want Jane? However, Elizabeth could not risk Mr. Collins proposing to Jane before Mr. Bingley got a chance. The best way to keep that from happening, as Elizabeth could see the situation, was to mention Mr. Bingley and hope one of the more foolish members of her family would latch on to it as a point of discussion.

"Lydia, have you decided which dress you will wear to Mr. Bingley's ball?" asked Elizabeth, trying her best to sound innocent.

"Well, I have my eye on one of Kitty's. It looks far better on me than it does on her," said Lydia, ignoring Kitty's glare. "Mama, do you not think it is selfish of her not to share the dress?"

Before Mrs. Bennet could respond, Mr. Collins asked the question Elizabeth hoped for. "Who is Mr. Bingley?"

Kitty took the opportunity to answer before Lydia could continue dominating the conversation. "Why, he is the gentleman who has let Netherfield Hall. He is terribly nice and quite handsome, and you ought to witness how much he admires Jane!"

Mr. Collins' eyes cut to Jane. "I did not realize. Is there a formal connection between you?"

"Not as of yet," Mrs. Bennet responded, "but we expect one in the very near future. Why, Mr. Collins, of course you must attend the ball with us!"

"You can dance with me!" cried Lydia.

"And me!" said Kitty, not about to be outdone.

Mr. Collins smiled. "Why, it should be my great privilege to dance with each of my cousins; but perhaps Miss Elizabeth would be willing to save me the first dance?"

Elizabeth had no idea how to respond. It appeared that, by saving Jane, she had made herself Mr. Collins' next target. She smiled weakly at her cousin, and kept her mouth shut for the remainder of the walk, lest she accidentally injure herself once again.


	4. Chapter 4

Fitzwilliam Darcy paced the empty library at Netherfield Hall. He was exceedingly relieved to have some time to his own thoughts. Caroline Bingley followed him wherever he went, teasing him about fine eyes and relatives in Cheapside, ever since he mentioned his appreciation of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

And ought he not to be chastised for these thoughts? Certainly not by Miss Bingley, whose rank was below Elizabeth's, but by himself? Miss Elizabeth's connections were not what he should want in a family; in fact, they were so lacking he cringed to think of it. Regardless, he could not stop thinking of her.

He was surrounded by young women who were interested in his status and his fortune. He was hardly yet a man when he had learned how to disengage from such women, who only cared for what he owned and not a bit for what he thought or believed. When he first laid eyes on Miss Elizabeth, he assumed she would fall into this category; who would expect a higher class of woman to be found at a country dance?

Then her fine humor and intelligence made themselves known, and Darcy began to find beauty in places where he before had only noticed flaws. He craved the sound of her laughter, and wished to be the one who inspired her smile. Almost before he knew what happened, he had strong feelings for the young woman.

But oh, her family! Her utterly ridiculous family! Mrs. Bennet was loud, crude, and overstepped herself almost continually. The youngest girls were silly fools. Mary was far too severe, and carried herself as if she was morally superior to all those around her. And their father allowed all this! Mr. Bennet was not excused from fault, as he had clearly not attempted to stem these coarse behaviors.

The best thing to do would be to forget Elizabeth Bennet. But how could that be accomplished, when he saw her so frequently? He needed to go back to town. That would resolve this issue. The distance would make it easier for him to forget his attraction to her. He told Bingley he would be present for the upcoming ball, but after that Darcy needed to make his excuses and escape to the safety of his London home.

That presented another issue, however. Bingley was extremely fond of Miss Jane Bennet. How could Darcy think only to save himself, and not his friend, as well? He began to consider how he it was possible to extricate Bingley from the situation as well. Ought he to manufacture a scenario which required both of them to leave for London? Perhaps Bingley's attachment to Miss Bennet would fade with the distance, just as Darcy hoped his attachment to Miss Elizabeth would.

He mulled this thought over in his mind, before dismissing it. He would give Bingley the opportunity to leave with him, but he could not bring himself to speak out against Miss Jane Bennet, who seemed to him to be a fine girl, if a bit lacking in spirit.

Miss Elizabeth did not lack in spirit; in fact, she had it in excess. That fire was one of the qualities which enchanted Darcy. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He could not marry Miss Elizabeth, and so he must leave Netherfield until his emotions were under control. It was the only rational thing to do.


	5. Chapter 5

"Cousin Elizabeth! What a pleasure it is to have you as my dinner partner," Mr. Collins said, leaning closer to her than Elizabeth would like.

"You flatter me, sir. At a family dinner such as this, are we not all dinner partners?"

"Indeed we are, but with company as charming as yours, I am sure I can be excused for mistaking the matter."

Elizabeth glanced across the table and saw three of her four sisters stared at her jealously. Jane, the only one who understood the reality of the situation, looked at Elizabeth pityingly. Jane knew that, were it not for her connection to Mr. Bingley, she might be in the same situation as Elizabeth.

"Perhaps after dinner you will allow me to read to you another of Fordyce's sermons?" Mr. Collins asked.

"Oh, dear," said Elizabeth, who was planning to use the time after dinner to read the latest novel in which she was engrossed. "I am afraid I feel as if I have a headache. It might be best for me to retire to my room after the meal."

"I would adore a reading from Fordyce's Sermons, Mr. Collins," said Lydia in a sweet voice. "I feel they help me to be a better person."

"Is there anything I can do to assist you, dear cousin?" Mr. Collins asked, ignoring Lydia.

"The only assistance I would ask is for you to read to my dear sisters. I would not want to deny them their chance at salvation because I am feeling ill. I do ask, however, that I might take Jane with me. She knows how I prefer my compresses applied."

"It does you great credit, Cousin Elizabeth, that you are concerned with the spiritual welfare of others even as you suffer!" cried Mr. Collins. "You are such a gracious young lady; if only all women were so devout."

Elizabeth successfully managed not to roll her eyes. She sensed there was nothing she could do to dissuade her cousin.

***

The following morning, Elizabeth was forced to fend off Mr. Collins' continued exclamations of hope for her good health and exhortations to rest if she felt ill in the slightest. Even making up excuses to escape Mr. Collins led to more of Mr. Collins. He seemed to think himself very charming, and there were those in the Bennet household who would agree. Unfortunately for both Mr. Collins and herself, Elizabeth was not one of them.

Elizabeth waited until Mr. Collins was deep in conversation with Mrs. Bennet before saying, "I believe I shall take a walk. The fresh air will clear my head."

Mr. Collins' head swiveled around. "A walk, my dear cousin? Well, I ought to accompany you to ensure you are not taken ill while away from home."

"Well, it would not be proper for the two of you to walk unchaperoned!" said Lydia, sounding scandalized. Elizabeth resisted the urge to sigh at the idea of Lydia as the moral center of the Bennet household. She knew very well Lydia only wished to be close to Mr. Collins.

"Yes, we all ought to go. We can walk to Meryton! Lydia and I want to look for ribbons for the ball!" said Kitty.

So, much against Elizabeth's will, the trip was organized and embarked upon. Jane had taken pity on Elizabeth and decided to accompany her, and Mary came along as well. Mary and Mr. Collins matched quite well, both of them dressed in dark, somber colors. Kitty and Lydia, by contrast, had decked themselves out like peacocks. Elizabeth knew the combination of a walk with Mr. Collins and the chance of seeing officers in Meryton was far too much inducement for her sisters to refrain from dressing in all their finery.

"Do you ladies often walk to Meryton?" asked Mr. Collins.

"Kitty and I do nearly every day. Meryton is so much livelier than staying at home! One never knows whom one will meet. Lizzy does not often come with us, though. She prefers to walk the fields by herself. Mama says she is far more solitary than a young lady ought to be."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at her sister. To think that _Lydia_ was lecturing _her_!

"Solitary pursuits bring one closer to God," said Mr. Collins, beaming a smile in Elizabeth's direction as if he was rescuing her. "I think it speaks well of Cousin Elizabeth that she enjoys such things."

"Well, yes, of course that sort of solitude is agreeable," said Lydia, unwilling to disagree with anything Mr. Collins might say. "But is frolicking in the mud really the mark of a lady?"

"I have never frolicked; I have only capered," Elizabeth said, successfully keeping the irritation she felt out of her voice.

"I am sure, whatever you might call it, that you approached it with the proper ladylike disposition," said Mr. Collins.

"My disposition cannot be judged, as I walk by myself, but I assure you my conscience feels no weight due to the situation," Elizabeth responded.

"Oh, Cousin Elizabeth! How charmingly you speak."

Elizabeth thought it to be time to leave Mr. Collins to the younger girls, and intentionally slowed her pace to fall behind with Jane.

"I am quite exhausted with being unintentionally charming," Elizabeth said in a soft voice.

"He does seem quite taken with you, Lizzy. He's a handsome enough man; perhaps once we get to know him, he will not appear quite so foolish?"

"Jane, I admire your ability to see the goodness in everyone, but if it was not for Mr. Bingley, Mr. Collins would be focusing all his attention on you. How would you like that?"

Elizabeth watched as Jane fought an involuntary shiver.

"That is what I thought," said Elizabeth, confident her point was made.

***

Kitty and Lydia kept Mr. Collins' attention off Elizabeth for the remainder of the walk into Meryton. Elizabeth was relieved for the respite and took the opportunity to enjoy being outdoors in the fresh air. Mary kept attempting to fall behind the rest of the group, so Elizabeth hurried her along. Mary's esteem for Mr. Collins was apparent, but if Mary did nothing to make herself noticed, she would continually be outshone by her talkative younger sisters. Elizabeth suspected that, of all the Bennet girls, Mary would be the best fit for the wife of a parson, and she was determined to give Mary any support that was needed.

As their party arrived in Meryton, the distinctive red jackets of the militia officers were immediately noticeable.

"Ooooh, there's Denny!" said Lydia, standing on the balls of her feet and waving. She then remembered she was attempting to be proper for Mr. Collins and took his arm, casting her eyes demurely towards the ground. However, her greeting had already worked, and Captain Denny and another man were making their way over.

Captain Denny greeted each of the ladies in turn, and they introduced him to Mr. Collins. It was clear Mr. Collins was not overly impressed by Captain Denny, nor by the familiar way Lydia had greeted him. Elizabeth was reminded of the fights the roosters had over dominance of the hens. They flew at one another brandishing their spurs, with their iridescent feathers alive in the sunlight. Mr. Collins looked very much as if he would like to use his spurs on Denny.

Denny, on the other hand, peered openly and curiously at Mr. Collins. Elizabeth suspected Denny had not formed enough of a connection--and thank goodness for that!--to any of the Bennet girls that would lead to him being threatened by the presence of another man. It was interesting to observe the contrast between the two of them.

"This is Mr. Wickham. He has just enlisted in the militia," Denny said, after a moment of observing Mr. Collins.

Even with Mr. Collins to impress, Lydia could not bear to allow herself to go unnoticed. She gave Wickham a deep curtsy and said, "I hope you are fond of dancing, sir, as there are often young ladies without partners at our meeting room dances."

Wickham returned Lydia's curtsy with a bow. "I do enjoy dancing, and I would be delighted to serve as a dancing partner for whichever of the young ladies in Meryton are in need."

"Perhaps you should request the first dance with Lizzy at Mr. Bingley's ball," said Lydia with a giggle. "She was quite rudely thrown over by a man named Darcy at the last dance."

Wickham was instantly alert. "Not Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy?"

"The same! Are you acquainted?"

"There is some connection between our families," Mr. Wickham said. "I was simply surprised to hear the name."

"Lydia, you cannot invite people to Mr. Bingley's ball," Elizabeth said in a low voice.

"Then it is fortunate Mr. Bingley has invited the regiment to attend," said Denny. "Wickham, perhaps you ought to secure the first dance. With such a lovely partner, this may be your only chance before her dance card is filled entirely up."

"I am afraid I have already secured the first dance with my cousin," Mr. Collins said, daring Wickham to oppose him.

"I did not realize. I meant no offense to either of you, sir," said Mr. Wickham with a bow. "Are you engaged?"

"We most certainly are not," said Elizabeth, more harshly than she intended.

"Well, then, perhaps you will save me a dance, Miss Elizabeth.”

She did not know him, but Elizabeth suspected a dance with Mr. Wickham would be far superior to spending the night dancing with Mr. Collins.

"I accept," she said, and smiled. Wickham returned her smile in a way that made a small thrill run up Elizabeth's spine. She found she was not at all upset at the idea of spending more time with the handsome Mr. Wickham.

Elizabeth had the opportunity to continue observing Mr. Wickham, as he and Captain Denny accompanied their group through Meryton. Kitty and Lydia insisted on looking at trimmings for their dresses, and Captain Denny offered to go with them (for what reason, Elizabeth could not imagine). That left the rather uncomfortable combination of Elizabeth, Jane, Mary, Mr. Collins, and Mr. Wickham. Mary attempted to draw Mr. Collins' attention by being a perfect example of quiet piety; Mr. Collins and Mr. Wickham both tried to gain Elizabeth's attention, with one being much more successful than the other; and Jane watched the entire awkward even unfold.

"Miss Elizabeth, I am shocked to think that a man, even one like Mr. Darcy, could resist your charms," said Mr. Wickham.

Elizabeth blushed a bit at his words and smiled at him.

Mr. Collins started as if he had not heard their previous discussion. "Is this Mr. Darcy you speak of from Derbyshire?"

"Yes," replied Mr. Wickham. "He owns the estate of Pemberley. Do you know him?"

"Well, I know _of_ him,” said Mr. Collins, clearly excited. "He is the nephew of my patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh! How extraordinary that he might be here!"

"Indeed," said Mr. Wickham mildly. He then changed the topic by asking Elizabeth's opinion on how many people would be in attendance at Mr. Bingley's ball.

"I would expect quite a few people, especially considering the happy event of his invitation to all the officers."

"Shall there be enough ladies to go around?" asked Wickham.

"I daresay there shall be, and if not, gentlemen are less likely to mind sitting out a dance than ladies are, in my observation."

"And a sharp observation it is," said Wickham, smiling at her.

"But let us not forget to whom your first dance is promised," said Collins, desperate at being left out of the conversation.

"Certainly, Mr. Collins, I shall not forget your gallantry at asking," said Elizabeth, then turned her attention back to Mr. Wickham.

They continued their light conversation, including Jane, Mary, and Mr. Collins as often as they could manage. None who were watching them, however, could be left with any doubt the main conversationalists were Elizabeth and Mr. Wickham.

Even a man as lacking in observation as Mr. Collins could not miss the connection being forged in front of his eyes. His attempts to insert himself into the conversation and draw Elizabeth's attention were unsuccessful, and he became visibly more irritated with each rebuffed effort. It was not until the Bennet girls had bid farewell to Denny and Wickham and started the journey back to Longbourn that Mr. Collins began to return to his standard awkwardly formal manner. It was clear he had not planned to have any sort of competition for Elizabeth's affection, and the meeting with Mr. Wickham left him concerned about what would happen in the near future.

***

Mr. Collins was not at all certain about his decision in regards to choosing a bride. Before arriving a Longbourn, he heard of the loveliness of the Bennet girls, and assumed, as none of them were engaged, that he would have his pick of them. However, the truth of the matter was much more complicated. He had first been interested in Jane, but she was quite nearly spoken for. He had turned his attention to Elizabeth, only to see that militia officer charm his way into her good graces. Ought he to concentrate on the younger girls? Lydia and Kitty did not have any impediments of which he was aware; in addition, they seemed as if they would be more receptive to the idea of an engagement. Perhaps it would make more sense for him to turn his attention to one of these young ladies.

Then he thought of Elizabeth's loveliness, and he realized he was not willing to abandon the idea of her as his wife simply because of an upstart soldier. He determined he would fight for her affections, and make her understand the two of them were meant to be wed. And what better opportunity than at the Netherfield Ball?

With this decision made, Mr. Collins began to plan how to best woo his cousin at the upcoming ball.


	6. Chapter 6

Lizzy, have you ever seen such a ball?" Charlotte Lucas asked her friend.

"Indeed, it is quite grand," Elizabeth replied. She craned her neck, trying to locate Mr. Wickham. She did not see him; unfortunately, she locked eyes with the unpleasant Mr. Darcy instead.

"Oh, no, Charlotte," she whispered. "He is making his way towards us."

Elizabeth already had her fill of men in whom she had not the slightest interest. Mr. Collins made quite an event of partnering with her for the first two dances of the evening. Though his handsome physical features at first suggested perfection, his dexterity—in addition to his personality—was far lacking this mark. Her feet were quite sore from his many missteps. She was relieved when she danced the maximum number of dances with Mr. Collins that was proper; to invite her to dance again would practically be a proposal of marriage. She hoped even Mr. Collins was not so foolish.

Elizabeth set thoughts of Mr. Collins aside. It was clear Mr. Darcy was aiming towards Charlotte and her, and she would need all her wits about her if she was to manage a conversation with him.

"Good evening, ladies," Mr. Darcy said with a bow.

Elizabeth and Charlotte curtsied in response.

"I wonder, Miss Elizabeth, if I might have the honor of the next dance."

Elizabeth's head felt thick. Why would Mr. Darcy want to dance with someone as 'barely tolerable' as she? She stared at him blankly for a moment, willing some witty response to occur to her--something to let him know she was not in the slightest interested in a dance with him. Unfortunately, no such response came to mind. She answered in the only way she could, without causing a social furor: "You may."

She cast a glance over her shoulder at Charlotte as Mr. Darcy led her to the dance floor. Charlotte gave her a small smile and raised her eyebrows, and then Elizabeth was in the midst of the dance with the horrid Mr. Darcy.

She realized remaining silent would only intensify an otherwise awkward situation, and her best chance of escaping unscathed was to make light conversation. Whether Mr. Darcy would hold up his end of the conversation, she had not the slightest idea.

"How do you find Hertfordshire, Mr. Darcy?" she asked as they met in the middle of the dance floor. Each continued in the opposite direction before reversing the steps, so she had to wait a moment for his response.

"It is noisy in a much different way than in town. There are fewer voices, but those that there are seem to ring much more stridently in the country than they do in the city."

"Ah, so you find us strident? Is that another way of saying coarse?"

"Certainly I would never use the word coarse. It is true the country seems to be a bit behind the city in fashions and entertainments, but I do not intend that as a criticism."

"Do you not? It seems you found fault with much of what you have seen so far, and what is finding fault but criticism?"

"Is this the impression you have formed of me?" he asked, frowning.

"Sir, you have given me little reason for any other impression," Elizabeth said, returning his frown.

The two continued the dance, both of them angry at the other for reasons they could not put words to. It was therefore a relief to them to hear the dance ending.

"I apologize for having detained you in such a distasteful pastime," Darcy said, with a stiff bow.

"I never said it was distasteful! It seems clear you have no intention but to provoke me! I am embarrassed, sir, that I allowed myself to be tricked into dancing with you!"

She turned and stomped off the dance floor. Darcy stared after her for a moment, shocked. If anyone was provoked during their dance, it was not she! However, he was more upset with himself than he was with Elizabeth. Even while she was in the midst of being unreasonable, all he could think of was how fine she looked with color in her cheeks. She stared at him so intently as they spoke, as if, for the duration of their dance, nothing existed except the two of them. How he longed for her to look at him like that again, only fueled by passion rather than anger. He could not make himself forget her even as she made clear she wanted nothing more to do with him.

_Darcy, you stumbled into quite a mess this time_, he thought as he made his way off the dance floor and towards the quiet of a nearby garden.

***

Elizabeth was indeed in fine form. How dare Darcy treat her in such a way! She made every effort to be polite to him, but he mocked her at every turn. What is more, he delayed her search for the man whom she hoped to find. Much to her consternation, she felt tears of anger rising in her eyes and she slipped into a nearby sitting room to compose herself. There were several people milling about, so she found an out-of-the-way spot to sit.

She dropped to a settee and wiped at her eyes. She was most upset at the fact she had been reduced to tears by someone of such little consequence as Mr. Darcy. Why was she unable to show him the same disdain which he had for her? She shook her head and dropped it into her hands, willing herself to stop crying.

"There is nothing more upsetting than seeing a lovely girl crying."

Her eyes flew open and she found the man she had been searching for standing in front of her. Mr. Wickham gave her a small smile and pressed a handkerchief in her hand.

"May I sit?"

Elizabeth nodded in response.

"What has upset you so much during an evening of merriment, Miss Bennet?"

"It is quite the most foolish thing," she said, still working to keep her sobs under control. "Mr. Darcy asked me to dance, and then was most unpleasant the entire time."

Wickham was on his feet, anger flashing in his eyes. "How dare he treat you in such a way!”

"I daresay Mr. Darcy believes it to be his right to treat me any way he pleases," said Elizabeth, dabbing her eyes.

"Not while you have me as your champion. I shall demand satisfaction for such a slight!"

"No, no, you must not! It is a small thing, I assure you, and there is no need for my honor to be defended."

"Are you certain? I will fight for you, Miss Bennet. I cannot imagine any more worthy cause."

"I am flattered you think me so worthy," Elizabeth said, and felt her cheeks flush.

"Anyone who does not is a fool," said Wickham softly, looking into her eyes.

Elizabeth was overwhelmed by the entire situation. Especially after the disastrous dance with Mr. Darcy, Mr. Wickham seemed to be the consummate gentleman. He was charming, kind, entertaining--and, she would have to admit if pressed, quite handsome as well. If things continued along the same path, she foresaw herself becoming quite fond of Mr. Wickham.

She hoped he would ask her to dance--ought she not have one enjoyable partner for the evening?--but before such a thing could occur, Mr. Collins walked into the room.

"Cousin Elizabeth! There you are! I have been searching for you. I saw you were dancing with Mr. Darcy, and by the time I introduced myself to the gentleman, you had disappeared!"

"You introduced yourself to Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth said, somewhat faintly.

"Indeed I did! I told him his aunt was in quite good health. He seemed quite busy in his current conversation, however, as he did not have the time to converse with me. But what a fine gentleman he is! I would expect nothing less from a nephew of Lady Catherine."

Elizabeth resisted the urge to rub her temples in consternation. She knew Mr. Darcy would have been quite offended for Mr. Collins to speak with him without a formal introduction. Elizabeth was making every effort to elevate her family above Mr. Darcy's opinion of them, and Mr. Collins was uncouth enough to introduce himself!

"I have been searching for you, dear cousin, because I hoped you would honor me with another dance."

Elizabeth looked at him for a moment, unsure of what to say. It was clear the man was somewhat unmannered, based on his interaction with Mr. Darcy; perhaps he did not know of the impropriety of asking her to dance again? But she could not run the risk that Mr. Collins was making an intentional offer to her--an offer she had no intention of agreeing to.

"I am sorry, Mr. Collins, but I seem to have turned my ankle during my last dance."

"Oh, how awful! And you have waited so long to tell me about it! Come, I must take you to your mother. She will know what to do."

Elizabeth's options were to dance with Mr. Collins or to spend the remainder of the ball sitting with her mother. The choice was difficult, but an evening spent listening to her mother chatter would be over far more quickly than a lifetime with Mr. Collins.

"Allow me to help you," offered Mr. Wickham, rising to take her arm.

"Oh, no, no, sir, no reason for you to bother yourself," Mr. Collins said with a sharp glance. "I am more than capable of getting my cousin to her mother." To Elizabeth, he added, "Can you walk? Shall I carry you?"

"No!" Elizabeth shuddered at the idea of Mr. Collins carrying her through the ball. "It is too sore to dance, but I can walk."

"Well, come then," said Mr. Collins, pulling her by the arm.

She allowed herself to be led away because she had not the slightest idea what else to do; as she left the room, she cast a glance over her shoulder at Mr. Wickham. He smiled and bowed towards her, and then he was out of sight.

"Lizzy, what have you done?" demanded her mother as Mr. Collins directed her across the floor. "Why are you limping?"

"Cousin Elizabeth had the misfortune of hurting her ankle during her last dance," said Mr. Collins, looking graver than was necessary. "I do not wish to see her hurt herself further, so I brought her directly to you, madam."

"And a good thing you did, Mr. Collins! You are ever so solicitous."

"I do not want my dear cousin injured. Shall I stay with you and keep you company, cousin?"

"That is not at all necessary, Mr. Collins. I would not want to be the cause of your missing the remainder of the ball. Go and enjoy yourself."

"As you command, my lady," Mr. Collins said, and performed one of those bows which he believed to be courtly, but which were actually rather ostentatiously foolish. He cast several looks over his shoulder as he walked away, trying to maintain meaningful eye contact with Elizabeth. She was relieved when she could no longer see him.

"Well, Miss Lizzy, it seems you made quite the impression on Mr. Collins! I should have expected him to be drawn to Lydia; they should make such a handsome couple. But I am certain Lydia will find an officer, and it is clear Mr. Collins prefers you. There will be two weddings to plan!"

Elizabeth noticed Mr. Darcy standing nearby where she and her mother sat. By the look on his face, it was clear he overheard her mother talking about engagements that had not yet happened. Elizabeth flushed a deep red at the thought of her mother embarrassing herself in front of Mr. Darcy.

Darcy's eyes moved to Elizabeth's, and his countenance changed. The disdain on his face melted away, and he just stared blankly at her for a moment. Then he abruptly turned and walked away.

"Mama, please do not talk of such things. No offers have been made."

"Well, they will soon be," said her mother, chastened not in the slightest.

"Even if that was true, I have no intention of marrying Mr. Collins."

"No intention!" her mother screeched, loudly enough that several people turned around to stare.

"Do not call attention to us," Elizabeth begged.

Mrs. Bennet seemed to suddenly notice how many eyes were on them, and, while she enjoyed sharing gossip, she was not especially fond of being the subject of it. "We will speak of this very soon," she said.

To Elizabeth, it sounded very much like a threat.

Elizabeth could tell her mother was nearly bursting on the carriage ride back to Longbourn. However, Mr. Collins rode with them, so Mrs. Bennet did not have the chance to chastise her daughter in a way she thought was appropriate. Elizabeth managed to make it into the house ahead of her mother and hastened to change into her night dress. By the time Mrs. Bennet finally located Elizabeth, it was to find her apparently deep in sleep. Elizabeth feigned sleep and heard her mother's irritated sigh. Then the door to the bedroom closed and Elizabeth knew the conversation was avoided until the morning.


	7. Chapter 7

Elizabeth managed to avoid her mother until they met at the breakfast table, but her luck did not hold beyond that. As soon as the meal was finished, Mr. Collins stood.

"I was wondering if I might speak to Miss Elizabeth," he said.

"Oh!" squeaked Mrs. Bennet. "Of course. Come along, girls."

"Do not go," said Elizabeth. "There can be nothing Mr. Collins must say to me which cannot be said in front of my family."

"Nonsense, Lizzy," said Mrs. Bennet, ushering the other girls out the door. She gave Elizabeth a look that commanded her to be sensible and accept Mr. Collins. "I insist you stay and hear what Mr. Collins has to say."

At that point Elizabeth realized it would be best to be done with the conversation as soon as possible; Mr. Collins seemed determined to make an offer, and she could dash his hopes as easily now as later. With a resigned sigh, she sat and gave Mr. Collins her attention.

"I have not concealed my purpose for visiting. Almost from the moment I arrived, I knew you were the woman whom I wish to take for my wife."

Elizabeth attempted to tell him she was not interested, but he held a hand up for her to be silent.

"Before you speak, let me tell you why I seek a wife at this time. I will admit, I had not been considering matrimony until Lady Catherine expressed to me how much she wishes me to marry. Upon reflection, I found that, as with every other piece of advice I have received from that wonderful source, I was indeed very much in need of a wife. As the heir, I took it upon myself to travel to Longbourn to acquaint myself with my cousins. Imagine the joy I felt when I first beheld your beauty, Miss Elizabeth. I am overwhelmed, even now, by the intensity of my love for you."

He paused for a moment and smiled a practiced smile. There was no trace of legitimate emotion behind it.

Elizabeth was overcome with frustration. It was clear Mr. Collins believed any woman would be grateful to be his wife. Why, he was not asking her to marry him so much as lecturing her on why Lady Catherine thought it to be a good idea!

"Once I tell Lady Catherine of your amiable qualities, she will very much approve of the choice I have made."

Elizabeth found her voice. "You have made your decision clear, sir, but you have not yet heard mine. I cannot marry you."

He smiled at her indulgently. "I know your feminine delicacy leads you to demur. I am not insensible to the games ladies play."

"I know nothing of the ‘games ladies play’, Mr. Collins, but I assure you I am quite serious in my refusal. There is no way we will be happy together."

"Your refusal makes my heart stronger. I did not realize the depth of your humility. I chose well, indeed."

"Mr. Collins, allow me to be clear: I shall not marry you."

His eyes narrowed. "You cannot honestly be refusing me."

"I am and I shall continue to do so. In what way do you see us as being compatible?"

"You are lovely, and I believe you have the breeding to make a good wife."

"So my beauty and breeding are all that interest you?" she said, her temper flaring. "Nothing of my thoughts, or of what I hold dear? Allow me to answer for you. You are not interested in either of those things, because you made no attempt to learn of them. I am not a decoration sir, nor shall I ever be. I have done you the courtesy of setting your looks aside when considering you; perhaps you should do the same."

Mr. Collins looked stunned. Elizabeth reflected he had probably rarely had the experience of a woman not being charmed by his good looks.

"Miss Elizabeth, perhaps you should keep in mind that offers for you Bennet girls have not been forthcoming."

The fire in Elizabeth's eyes was stoked. "How dare you imply there is anything wrong with my family!" _She_ was allowed to find fault with them, but _he_ certainly was not. "You cannot deny Jane is beautiful, or Lydia charming, or Kitty sweet, or Mary pious."

At the last statement, a thought occurred to Elizabeth.

"Have you considered Mary? She may well be receptive to a proposal from you. She is bright and well-mannered and godly. She has many characteristics which would benefit her as a parson's wife."

A look of distaste came over Mr. Collins' face, and Elizabeth had to still her hand to keep from slapping him.

"I do not think Miss Mary is the proper wife for me."

"Have you even spoken to her? I do not recall you having spent much time with her at all."

"I do not need to spend time with her to ascertain she is not suitable."

"You make your meaning perfectly clear, sir."

Both of them were silent for a moment before Mr. Collins spoke again.

"You do, however, make an excellent point about the fitness of either Miss Kitty or Miss Lydia to be my wife. Perhaps I have not given them the consideration they are due."

Elizabeth resisted the urge to reply with a cutting comment about how Mr. Collins' only criterion for marriage seemed to be the lady's physical beauty. She did not want to push Mary on a man who might never appreciate her finer qualities. At least Kitty and Lydia would be delighted to be decorative objects, and not resent the fact they were not married for their minds.

Mr. Collins bowed. "I thank you, Miss Elizabeth, for showing me the error of my first choice. I hope I shall have your support for whichever of your sisters I choose?"

"As long as you treat them with the respect they deserve," Elizabeth said shortly. "They may be frivolous, but they are my sisters and I will not see them hurt."

"You have my word," he said, and walked to the door of the room. As he opened it, it was quite clear that Mrs. Bennet and her other daughters had been listening to the conversation.

"Good morning, Mr. Collins," said Lydia, curtsying and smiling beguilingly so her dimples showed. "Is it not a lovely day?"

"Indeed it is," he said, looking at her intently. "Quite lovely indeed."

***

The next few days were calmer than the previous one. Elizabeth was relieved Mr. Collins no longer singled her out for attention. Kitty and Lydia fought to be the recipients of that attention. Nothing else out of the ordinary occurred. Elizabeth was just beginning to feel things might, at some point, return to normal when Jane received a letter.

Lydia intercepted the letter as soon as it arrived.

"Jane!" she called. "There is a letter here. From Netherfield!"

Jane rushed down the stairs, hope shining from her face. It had been some time since she heard from any of the Bingleys, and she was anxious to see what news the letter contained.

Her sisters watched her intently as she broke the wax seal and opened the letter. Elizabeth, at least, attempted to be discreet, but the rest of the house appeared content to outright stare at her. Jane's eyes continued to sparkle with hope as she began the letter, but her look soon turned to one of shock.

"What is the matter? What happened?" Mrs. Bennet demanded. "Jane, why do you look so pale?"

"Mr. Bingley has left Netherfield," Jane whispered.

"Is that all, silly girl?" said Mrs. Bennet. "He shall be back soon enough."

"I do not think he shall," Jane replied. "This letter from Miss Bingley makes it clear they are returning to town and have no immediate plans to return."

Mrs. Bennet blanched as pale as Jane.

"This cannot be," Mrs. Bennet said. "No, it certainly cannot be. It must be a misunderstanding. Jane, you must be misreading the letter. Give it here and let me see."

"Mama, the letter is addressed to Jane alone," Elizabeth protested. "She can read well enough. There is no need to see the words with your own eyes."

Mrs. Bennet dropped her arm, which had been reaching for the letter. "Of course you are right, Lizzy. Jane can read quite well. I am suddenly feeling poorly. Girls, help me to bed."

By the time they assisted their mother to her room, she was nearly limp. She fell into bed and seemed to immediately fall asleep.

"I shall sit with her," volunteered Mary.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said to her sister, and turned her attention to Jane.

"Come. Mama is not the only one who needs rest."

She took Jane's hand and led her down the hall. Jane followed silently and obediently until they were in the bedroom with the door closed.

Jane sank on the bed and burst into tears.

"Oh, Lizzy, what am I to do?"

"Did the letter give any clue as to how long they plan to stay in town?"

"You may read the letter. I do not mind."

Elizabeth took the offered letter and read it quickly. Caroline Bingley was delighted to be returning to town. She said Mr. Bingley was anxious to return, and their entire party looked forward to seeing Mr. Darcy's sister, Georgiana. Caroline thought there might be some special connection between Mr. Bingley and Georgiana Darcy, and implied their engagement might be announced soon.

"There is no way this is true, Jane. Mr. Bingley would not have misled you so if he was already promised to Miss Darcy, or if he had the slightest idea he might soon be. I refuse to believe he would be so deceitful."

"What does it matter, Lizzy? He is gone. If he was truly interested in me, would he have left so abruptly?"

Elizabeth pondered the question, but did not think of a satisfactory answer. Why on Earth would Mr. Bingley leave so suddenly, and when things were so promising between him and Jane? Mr. Bingley, she realized, would not. However, Elizabeth could think of several people who would be quite relieved to see Jane and Mr. Bingley separated: Caroline Bingley, the Hursts, and Mr. Darcy. Mr. Bingley's sisters made their opinion of the Bennet family quite clear, and Mr. Darcy likewise was very forthcoming with his dislike for people who lived in the country. Elizabeth did not doubt one of these people was responsible for Mr. Bingley's departure, and she shared this belief with Jane.

"Oh, Lizzy, I do think you are mistaken. I cannot imagine anyone would intentionally come between us, especially not one of the people closest to him. And his sisters were very accommodating when I took ill at Netherfield."

"That may be true, Jane, but just because his sisters are fond of you does not mean they are willing to invite you into their family."

"I just cannot believe it of them. Likewise, I cannot believe Mr. Darcy would do anything which is not in Mr. Bingley's best interest."

Elizabeth stayed silent. If she knew Mr. Darcy, and she thought she was beginning to, his idea of what was in Mr. Bingley's best interest might very well involve a return to London.

***

Darcy stared out the window of the carriage. He was torn. Although he understood his removal from Hertfordshire was the safest thing, he also could not keep from thinking about Elizabeth Bennet. When he thought back to their dance at the ball, he hardly remembered the words she spoke, although he knew they injured his pride as she said them. What was clearer to him was the way color rose into her cheeks when she spoke of something she was passionate about, and how clear her eyes were as they spoke.

He had been around many women in his life, women impressed by Pemberley and by his income. She did not seem swayed by those things, and that was what drew him to her. Truly, a man would have to be exceptional in order for Elizabeth to love him. He doubted whether he could be that exceptional, although he hoped so. However, after their last encounter, he did not know if he would have another chance to speak to her.

Darcy glanced across the carriage to where Caroline Bingley sat. She had a satisfied smile on her face, and why should she not? After all, she and her sister Louisa had succeeded in getting their brother to return to town. Darcy was tempted to agree with them as they convinced Charles that Jane Bennet was not the right match for him, but each time he did, he imagined the disappointment and anger he would see in Elizabeth's eyes if she was ever to discover he was involved in convincing Charles to leave. Even in his imagination, he could not stand the intensity of that anger. So he stayed quite silent, allowing Mr. Bingley's sisters to make the argument to leave. Darcy was not proud of his silence in this matter, but his conscience was nonetheless soothed in knowing he had done nothing that would injure the woman he could no longer deny he was in love with.


	8. Chapter 8

Mr. Collins had much to think about after his failed proposal to Elizabeth. Her original suggestion of his courting Mary held no appeal to him whatsoever. Although Mary was the most devout of all the Bennet girls, he could not abide the thought of looking at her plain face each day.

_It will not do to marry a woman who is less beautiful than I_, he thought, glancing at his face in the mirror and smiling. A parson would be judged by the quality of his wife--and what quality would his parishioners see in Mary's dour countenance? No, Mary was not the wife for him.

Mr. Collins reflected once more how unfortunate was the fact Jane Bennet was quite nearly engaged to another man. Jane seemed sweet and pious enough, and she had the face of an angel. No one who looked at her would doubt for a moment Mr. Collins must be a fine man, to marry such a woman.

Since Elizabeth had made her refusal well known, that left Collins with the idea of marrying Lydia or Kitty. Neither of these options appeared to be bad, although he found Lydia's dimples and figure drew his mind more than Kitty's. He could imagine Lydia as his wife, fluttering about the house and complimenting him on his fine sermons on Sunday. The thought of this pleased him immensely. However, he had seen the way Lydia comported herself with the officers of the militia, and it concerned him that he might marry an ungovernable flirt. That would certainly not elevate his status, and he suspected Lady Catherine would not appreciate him taking such a woman to wife.

That left Kitty as a potential candidate. Although she was not the most beautiful of the Bennet sisters, she was nonetheless very attractive, and Mr. Collins thought he would be proud to have a girl as pretty as her for his wife. In addition, she did not show the extremes in temperament which were displayed by her sisters Lydia and Mary. He began to imagine what his life would be like with Kitty as his wife, and he soon admitted it painted a lovely picture. He did not know of her domestic proclivities, but he suspected that, as a gentleman's daughter, she was raised with an understanding of what the duties of the lady of the house entailed. In addition, Mrs. Bennet had proven all the girls came from solid stock, so he should be able to look forward to having a hale and healthy family with any of them. He did, however, hope for more sons than Mrs. Bennet had provided Mr. Bennet.

His decision was nearly made when he imagined kissing Lydia. He was instantly lost in a dream of having such a well-grown and responsive wife as Lydia, and he lost track of his conscious thoughts almost entirely for the next few moments. When he returned to himself, he was forced to admit his head and his heart were quite at odds in regards to which Bennet sister to court. It seemed to him he would need to take additional time around both of them to make the best possible decision.

***

While Mr. Collins pondered his decision, he remained in the thoughts of the ladies he decided between. Lydia and Kitty thought him to be the most handsome man they had ever seen. Indeed, the only thing which would increase his appeal would be if he were outfitted in a red regimental. However, as that would not happen, either of them would be happy to take him just as he was.

"I think Mr. Collins likes me better, Kitty," said Lydia.

"He never does! Did you not hear him ask me to pass the potatoes at dinner two nights ago? His voice was full of admiration."

"Admiration for the potatoes, perhaps, but I do not believe it extended to _you_."

"Why must you think every man is in love with you?" said Kitty.

"Well, are they not? I see how they watch me," said Lydia, twirling so her dress belled out.

"Perhaps it is not admiration with which they view you," said Kitty. "Perhaps they just feel you would be easier to catch."

"Are you insulting my virtue? How dare you!” yelled Lydia.

"I do not need to, as you do a good job of insulting it yourself!" Kitty yelled back.

At that time, Jane saw fit to intervene and sent her younger sisters to different parts of the house. It was clear based on how noisily each went to her own corner that the argument was far from over.

Mary watched all this, as Mary usually watched what happened at Longbourn. She heard how Mr. Collins spoke of her when he proposed to Elizabeth (although she admonished her sisters for spying, she made sure she did not miss what was happening). She recalled his words, and, as had happened each time she thought of them, she felt somewhat ill.

_I do not think Miss Mary is the proper wife for me._

It was unfair. Mary knew herself to be the most pious of her sisters, and suspected herself to be the most humble. How many times had she asked Mr. Collins for clarification as he recited Fordyce's Sermons, to show the depth of her devotion? Lydia could not manage to stay awake to listen, and yet somehow he found Mary to be an improper candidate to be his wife?

Mary knew the real reason for his reticence. She was very young when she realized people did not fawn over her beauty as they did her older and younger sisters'. She soon realized the best description that could be ascribed to her face was ‘interesting’, but it was more often the case she was called "plain". Mary realized she would have to distinguish herself in another way--and was that not more noble, to become distinguished for one's talents, rather than one's beauty?

And now, after all the time she had spent practicing the pianoforte, after all the time living a proper life as God intended, Mr. Collins had come along. He was handsome and devout and had a very important patroness. He ought to want a wife as accomplished and devout as Mary. But he did not, and instead he sought after her foolish sisters. Mary sat down at the pianoforte bench; she would just have to practice harder. The notes she banged out echoed the cadence of her sisters' footsteps. Kitty and Lydia were not the only angry Bennet sisters.

***

Even the prospect of a handsome, marriageable cousin could not tempt Kitty and Lydia entirely away from the militia officers. Mr. Collins might have been enjoyable to look at, but he lacked a red regimental, and the youngest Bennet girls agreed nothing made a man look better. Therefore, the presence of Mr. Collins and his conundrum as to which sister to choose did not change their lives as much as it might with a more proper young lady, like their sister Jane.

Trips to Meryton to see the officers happened with a certain regularity, and, although they were sometimes accompanied by Mr. Collins, they were more likely to be chaperoned by one of their older sisters, who had little recourse against girlish foolishness aside from stern words. These had precisely the same effect as always on Lydia and Kitty--that is to say, none.

The girls developed a bit of an ally in Elizabeth. Whenever she minded them, they were liable to be scolded as often as she though it necessary. However, if a certain Mr. Wickham was in attendance, Elizabeth was likely to be less vigilant of her younger sisters. In fact, Elizabeth herself occasionally found the occasion to giggle, which both startled and delighted her sisters. They whispered to one another about what a good influence Mr. Wickham had.

Mr. Collins certainly did not share his cousins' delight in speaking with members of the regiment. In fact, seeing the girls so involved in speaking with the officers stoked a slow anger inside the man. It particularly galled him to see Elizabeth, by whom he had been so quickly and thoroughly spurned, speaking and laughing with another man. It was a continual reminder of her rejection of him, and this reminder did not even allow him the indulgence of the idea that perhaps Elizabeth would have reacted as she did to any man who proposed to her. It was clear to anyone watching she would not reject a proposal from Mr. Wickham.

Elizabeth, normally quick and astute in her observations, failed to notice the effect she had on Mr. Collins. More often than not, she missed the minor improprieties of her sisters (although she was still observant enough to catch any major ones). It was so difficult to focus on what was happening around her when Mr. Wickham beamed his handsome smile at her and regaled her with stories of his time at Cambridge. She marveled at his ability to make any subject interesting, and she always walked away from their encounters believing he must have told her all the stories he had to tell. That idea was proven untrue each time they saw one another again.

“…and it was nearly time for the examination to begin, so we went in search of Wentworth," Mr. Wickham said, weaving his story for a captivated audience. "We knew where to find him, but we certainly did not relish the idea of going there. However, if he did not sit for the examination, he would be removed from the school, and there would be quite a row with his father. We decided we were bound to help him, if we could, to keep him from making an irreparable mistake. So we went to the tavern he enjoyed frequenting, and when we walked in, we discovered him--" Wickham broke off and looked around. "Oh, but pardon me. I forgot to whom I was speaking; such unpleasantries need not be spoken in front of proper young ladies like yourself."

"We are not easily shocked, Wickham," said Lydia, fluttering her eyelashes at him. "Tell us what happened."

"Miss Lydia!" interjected Mr. Collins. "This has gone on for far too long. I will not allow your ears to be sullied by the coarse tales of this man!"

Wickham bowed to Mr. Collins. "My deepest apologies, sir, for forgetting to whom I spoke."

"You ought not tell stories of that sort, regardless of your audience," said Mr. Collins, clearly enjoying the opportunity to demonstrate his moral superiority. "I will not have my sweet young cousins damaged from hearing such scandalous tales.”

"Mr. Collins, I am certain Mr. Wickham meant no offense, and he did apologize," said Lydia, with a bit of irritation apparent in her voice. "We are, after all, grown ladies. We do not damage as easily as you might think."

Kitty managed to read her cousin's mood better than her sister, and attempted to keep Lydia from further angering Mr. Collins. "Lydia, Mr. Collins is only attempting to protect us."

"Everyone is always 'protecting' us!" said Lydia, and stamped her foot. "The last thing I need in my life is another person trying to control me!"

"It appears to me," said Mr. Collins icily, "that no one has managed to yield any proper control over you. We need to return to Longbourn."

"Come, Lydia," said Elizabeth soothingly, trying to prevent her sister from causing more of a scene.

"Fine. Mr. Wickham, you will need to wait until we are more pleasantly chaperoned to finish telling the story," Lydia said with a pout.

As their party started for home, Elizabeth cast an apologetic glance over her shoulder at Mr. Wickham. He looked steadily into her eyes for a moment, and bowed. It felt as though her stomach flipped as she watched him do it, and it was at that moment she realized quite how much she liked Mr. Wickham.

However, she had more pressing issues to attend to. Lydia did not appear to have any idea how much Mr. Collins was offended by her behavior. She probably believed a few sweet words would be enough to win his interest back again; after all, such a maneuver had been quite effective on the village lads during previous conversations when she allowed her childish nature to overcome her flirtatious aims. Elizabeth suspected this approach would be much less successful to the easily offended Mr. Collins. Indeed, during the entire walk home. Mr. Collins entirely ignored Lydia and focused his attention on Kitty. By the time they returned to Longbourn, Elizabeth had one sister who was elated, and one who was quite cross.

***

"Mrs. Bennet, I do thank you for your warm hospitality, but I must consider my return to Hunsford," Mr. Collins said at breakfast the following morning.

Mrs. Bennet was so alarmed she spilled her tea.

"So soon, sir?" she asked in a slightly strangled voice. "And without that which you came to Longbourn to find?"

Mr. Collins glanced around the table, his eyes landing for a moment on Lydia.

"My search has not been as fruitful as I had hoped," he said.

Mrs. Bennet gave her daughters a brief hard look.

"I wonder if perhaps we have done something to upset you, sir."

"I am not upset; it is only I hoped to find something here I cannot seem to locate."

"Mr. Collins, please accept my apologies. Perhaps I could assist you in this search? There may be things you have not yet discovered which would change your mind."

Mr. Collins smiled indulgently at Mrs. Bennet.

"I certainly owe you that much, as finely as you have treated me."

"Oh, very good, Mr. Collins! After breakfast, we shall retire to the sitting room, for there is much to tell you!"

Elizabeth resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It was humiliating to hear Mrs. Bennet speak of her daughters as if they were livestock to be bargained over.

The meal was finished in an embarrassed silence. Mrs. Bennet bade Mr. Collins to the sitting room and told him she would follow shortly. When she was alone, she turned to her daughters.

"A week ago, my daughters had two suitors. I do not control Mr. Bingley, but I will not let Mr. Collins go so easily! Someone must care for your futures."

With that, she turned, her skirts swishing, and left the room.

None of the Bennet girls knew what Mr. Collins and Mrs. Bennet discussed in the sitting room, for Mrs. Bennet conveniently instructed the maid to clean near the doorway, making spying impossible. If they did not know what was discussed, they certainly made predictions. All they were certain of was that Mr. Collins left the sitting room and announced he was certain Lady Catherine could spare him for another week, but not a moment longer.

Kitty and Lydia glanced at one another and giggled. The quest for the handsome Mr. Collins' heart continued.


	9. Chapter 9

"I am fine, Lizzy. Truly. I do not know why I was so foolish about the matter when the letter arrived. Mr. Bingley made me no promise, and if I assumed more than he intended, then the fault is mine and mine alone," Jane said, turning to face her sister.

"The fault is Caroline Bingley's," Elizabeth snapped. "I will not have you blaming yourself for her infernal obstruction. I know Mr. Bingley loves you, Jane, and so does everyone else who saw the both of you at the Netherfield Ball."

"Anyone who believes so is mistaken," Jane's words were light, but her voice trembled.

"I do not believe it is in Mr. Bingley's nature to act as if he wished to marry you when he had no intention of doing so. Do you think him capable of such deception?"

Jane sighed. "No, I do not, and that is why I believe I was mistaken in my understanding of him."

"Is it more likely, Jane, that Mr. Bingley behaved in a way which led to your confusion, or is it more likely Mr. Bingley's trusted sister convinced him you were not a proper match for him?"

Jane's eyes filled with tears. "Either way, I would feel I was betrayed by someone I trusted and liked. Please, Lizzy, can you not leave this alone? Can you not see I would rather judge myself at fault than to place blame on either Mr. or Miss Bingley?"

Elizabeth thought for a moment, unwilling to further hurt her sister during such an emotional time. "I want to tell you that you ought not take the blame on yourself, but since you asked me not to, I will hold my tongue."

Jane managed a wan smile. "How is it you cannot refrain from advising me without also advising me?"

Elizabeth realized what she said and shared a smile with her sister, glad to see any trace of mirth on Jane's face. She did not continue the conversation, for Jane's sake, but Elizabeth had every intention of continuing to examine the situation in her own mind. If only there was some way to contact Mr. Bingley and find out what happened!

The possibility of Jane reconnecting with Mr. Bingley arose much sooner than Elizabeth had hoped. When the mail was delivered for the day, it contained a letter from their Aunt Gardiner in London. Elizabeth wrote to her about the general situation between Jane and Mr. Bingley, although she had not disclosed any details that would make her feel negligent in her discretion.

"Oh, look!" said Mrs. Bennet as she read the letter. "Your Uncle and Aunt Gardiner invited you to return with them after the holidays, Jane! Will it not be agreeable to be in London for the new year?"

Jane allowed it did sound like a pleasant diversion.

"Perhaps you will meet some fine new gentlemen. We shall write them back right away!"

"Before you do so, Mama, what other news from our aunt?"

Mrs. Bennet scanned the letter and announced there was nothing more of note. She handed Elizabeth the letter and scurried off to reply that Jane would be delighted to stay with the Gardiners. It was only by reading the letter herself she discovered her uncle acquired a profitable new client and her aunt was recovering from an illness which confined her to her bed for several days. Elizabeth sighed. If an issue was not directly related to the matrimonial prospects of one of the Bennet daughters, her mother clearly had no interest in it.

Elizabeth set the letter down and turned to Jane. She noticed Jane's mood seemed to improve upon the news of her upcoming trip.

"Perhaps I shall call on Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst while I am in town. Miss Bingley did encourage me to visit if ever I was in London."

Elizabeth suspected Miss Bingley's invitation was based on the supposition that Jane would not soon travel to London.

"That sounds like a lovely plan, Jane," Elizabeth said, trying to honor her earlier word not to speak poorly of Mr. or Miss Bingley.

"And who is to say? Perhaps Mr. Bingley will be there as well, and I will get the chance to hear from him what took him away so suddenly."

Elizabeth managed a small smile and nodded at her sister. She desperately hoped Jane was not going to be hurt even more by a second rejection.


	10. Chapter 10

Mr. Collins spent his remaining time at Longbourn pursuing his two most likely candidates--Lydia and Kitty. Elizabeth had been certain Mr. Collins would no longer consider Lydia after her childish tantrum in the village, but it appeared Lydia's more agreeable qualities had put her back in the race. It was true Lydia had taken to wearing her most daring gowns, and many a handkerchief was dropped in Mr. Collins' sight. A parson he might be, but he was also a man, and so he found it difficult to resist Lydia's charms.

Kitty attempted to establish herself as the more proper choice. _Only in a battle between Kitty and Lydia_, thought Elizabeth, _would Kitty be the responsible option_. Mr. Collins seemed impressed with Kitty's conversation. Although it was often stilted, Kitty did a much better job than her sister at conversing about things which interested Mr. Collins. The only thing that interested Mr. Collins that Lydia was concerned with was herself.

In the end, though, the thought of Lady Catherine de Bourgh made the decision for Mr. Collins. He imagined introducing Lydia to Lady Catherine, and thought of the look of consternation which would cross Lady Catherine's brow the first time Lydia exclaimed "Lord!" or did something else untoward. He did not need imagine for too long before his decision to marry Kitty solidified.

As time was short, he asked for an audience with Kitty almost immediately after arriving at his decision. Mrs. Bennet was elated. Lydia was distraught. Mrs. Bennet took her youngest daughter away from the sitting room, patting her arm and reminding her of all the handsome officers who would be heartbroken if she had married another. Lydia allowed as to the truth of the statement, but she still continued to sob theatrically as her mother ushered her to the other side of the house.

Behind the closed door of the sitting room, an entirely different scene played out. Kitty sat nervously on the edge of the settee, watching Mr. Collins pace the room. It was hard to say which of them was more anxious for the upcoming conversation.

"My dear Miss Kitty," Mr. Collins said, kneeling before her, "I made no secret of the fact I came to Longbourn in hopes of finding a wife."

"Oh, really?" squeaked Kitty, and was immediately mortified with what she had said.

"Indeed," replied Mr. Collins solemnly. "I will admit I did not see you at first as the lady for whom I looked, but I can only imagine the Lord gave me the time to discover what it is I truly want."

Kitty looked at him, her breath caught in her throat.

Mr. Collins rose from his kneeling position, and Kitty worked to keep her face from showing distress.

"Perhaps before I say more you should know why I am seeking a wife."

Kitty nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"I think it is right that a pastor be married. It exemplifies the sanctity of matrimony. It would be an excellent example to my congregation if I were to enter into the bonds of marriage. In addition, my most excellent benefactress, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, recently expressed a desire for me to find a wife, and, as with all things, her advice in this area is peerless. I traveled to Longbourn, and whom did I find but you, my dear Miss Kitty, all piety and grace and beauty."

Kitty blushed a fetching shade of pink; such compliments had never before been given to her.

"I do believe you are the wife God intended for me."

Mr. Collins dropped to his knees once more, and stared up at her with earnest eyes that thoroughly captivated her.

"Say you will be the partner I have been searching for," he said.

Although his proposal hewed closely to the one he had delivered to Elizabeth, the response to it was much different.

"Oh, yes, Mr. Collins, of course I shall be your wife!" Kitty was barely able to keep still, so extreme her excitement.

Mr. Collins took her hand and gently kissed the back of it.

"You make me truly happy, my darling. I know Lady Catherine will approve of you."

Kitty smiled broadly at him. "I am to be wed. And the first of my sisters! Lydia will be quite taken with envy."

"Do be gentle with her, dearest. I believe myself to be a good judge of people, and I think Miss Lydia hoped I would offer for her. I do not want her to feel hurt."

"Oh, she shall not, Mr. Collins!" cried Kitty. "I must go tell her the good news."

Then it was done--Kitty had agreed to marry him.

Mr. Collins went to Mr. Bennet's study to ask his permission to wed Kitty.

Mr. Bennet nearly choked when Mr. Collins announced the reason for his visit.

"Kitty?" asked Mr. Bennet faintly. "Are you quite certain that is the girl to whom you proposed?"

"I think I should know to whom I proposed, sir." Mr. Collins took at least as much offense as Mr. Bennet had intended. "I am not feeble."

"No, indeed," said Mr. Bennet, staring. "And, out of all my daughters, you chose Kitty? Fascinating."

"She is the helpmeet I have longed for. My ardor can hardly be contained," said Mr. Collins, somewhat stiffly.

"Yes, it is quite obvious how you feel about her in the way you speak of her," said Mr. Bennet, his eyes dancing with mirth. "You will be kind to her?"

"I am a man of God."

"Hmm, yes, but I would still like to hear your answer. I have known some men of God, you see, who had quite a different perception of His will than I do."

Mr. Collins' face softened. "Of course I will be kind to her. She will be my wife. I cannot imagine how anyone could be cross at such a gay creature."

"That is very agreeable of you, sir. I wonder if you will retain the same opinion after you have spent more time with my daughter."

"If you are trying to discover my devotion to your daughter, I assure you I will find her as entrancing as I do today for the remainder of our life together."

Mr. Bennet muttered something to himself that sounded like, "We shall see." Then he spoke loudly enough for Mr. Collins to hear him. "If Kitty wishes to marry you, I give my consent."

Mr. Collins began to shake Mr. Bennet's hand heartily. "Oh, thank you sir. I am the happiest man, and I am certain Lady Catherine will be well-pleased when she hears of my intention to wed. You see, it was at her prompting..."

"Yes, yes. But ought you not find your bride-to-be, sir? There is time for us to sing the praises of Lady Catherine later."

"Yes, there certainly is!" agreed Mr. Collins. "I will find Kitty and tell her."

Mr. Bennet stared at the study door for a few moments after Mr. Collins left. Mr. Collins was a fool, he thought, but then again so was Kitty. She could have done much worse than a foolish, proud man who was likely to be kind to her. Perhaps the match would be a propitious one after all. One thing was entirely certain: the house would be a bit quieter without Mr. Collins and Kitty in it. Mr. Bennet decided he had enjoyed his sport quite long enough, and some peace sounded like a capital idea.

***

Lydia reacted to the news with far less serenity than did her father.

"That cannot be the case," she repeatedly stubbornly. "Mr. Collins is to marry me, or at least to offer! I have not yet decided if I shall accept, as I was so hoping to wed an officer. Nonetheless, there is no way he would propose to Kitty without receiving my refusal first. He only asked to speak with her to tell her of his plans to propose to me."

"Now Lydia," Jane said patiently. "You know that is not true. You knew what was happening the moment Mr. Collins asked for an audience with Kitty."

"No, I did not!" said Lydia, stamping her foot. "I am prettier than Kitty, and gayer, and more enjoyable to be around! He would not choose her over me!"

Elizabeth saw how Lydia's words were affecting Kitty, who, only moments before, had run into the room jubilant with news of her engagement. Elizabeth put her hands on Lydia's shoulder and gave her a small shake.

"You are ruining this moment for your sister. There is plenty of time for you to get married. I will not see you take this from her. Mr. Collins made his choice."

Lydia let out a strangled scream and ran from the room. It was quiet for a moment, and then everyone busied themselves with congratulating Kitty. Elizabeth dearly hoped Lydia would be past sulking by the time of the ceremony.


	11. Chapter 11

Mr. Collins and Kitty set their wedding day for as soon as the banns could be read. Mr. Collins returned to Hunsford in the interim, and life in the Bennet house centered on preparing Kitty for marriage. Two months prior, no one would have thought Kitty would be the first one to be engaged, and her trousseau was quite lacking in comparison to the older girls'. The Bennet sisters worked furiously on sewing and embroidering so Kitty would be prepared for her marriage and her move to Kent.

That is, most of the Bennet girls worked furiously. Lydia was stricken by every possible illness and inconvenience that could possibly befall her. She reported her head ached so often Mrs. Bennet considered calling for a doctor. When she could find no reasonable excuse, her embroidery was messy and often had to be pulled out and entirely restarted. Fortunately, Kitty was so thrilled at the idea of her impending nuptials, she did not take offense to Lydia's attitude.

The only joy left for Lydia was one which Elizabeth secretly shared. More often than strictly necessary, ribbons, thread, or trimmings needed to be retrieved from Meryton, and Lydia and Elizabeth were all too eager to run those errands. Lydia did not play favorites among the officers, at least not for long. Elizabeth, on the other hand, made the trip for just one man--Mr. Wickham. She continued to be charmed by his civility and his wit, and he appeared to be quite as taken with her as she was with him.

Lydia longed to gossip with someone about the connection she saw between Elizabeth and Mr. Wickham during this trips, but Kitty's engagement meant Lydia had lost not only a potential husband, but her confidante as well. She tried to speak with Mary, who ignored her; then she tried to speak with Jane, who scolded her for gossiping. This did nothing to improve Lydia's mood.

Elizabeth, however, was generally in a fine mood. She had no interest in marrying any time soon, but she did enjoy spending time with Mr. Wickham. And if it led to an engagement some months down the line, well, there was no shame in being the wife of an officer. For the first time, Elizabeth understood the draw of a man in a smart red uniform. Mr. Wickham was intelligent, amusing, handsome, and chivalrous--all Elizabeth need do was remember how he offered to defend her honor against the horrible Mr. Darcy, and she felt a bit giddy all over again.

Wickham continued to appear quite entranced with Elizabeth. When she was near, he had eyes for no one else. His compatriots needled him about his unwavering attention, and he accepted their jokes with an easy good nature that endeared him to Elizabeth all the more. The closer Mr. Collins' and Kitty's wedding came, the more Elizabeth found herself dreaming of life as Mrs. George Wickham as she worked on her needlecraft. Much like Lydia, Elizabeth lacked a confidante. Usually she would talk things out with Jane, but Jane was still recovering from Mr. Bingley's departure. Elizabeth had no intention of hurting Jane by speaking of Mr. Wickham.

Kitty's wedding was set for three days after Christmas, which gave some time for preparation and assured Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner could attend. However, it also meant holiday preparations and wedding preparations were happening simultaneously, which added to the confusion and disturbance around Longbourn. Mr. Bennet, knowing full well his input was required for neither wedding nor holiday, wisely chose to spend almost the entire month of December hiding in his study.

Mr. Collins was plainly unable to leave his parish prior to Christmas, so they planned that he would arrive a scarce day before the wedding. Mrs. Bennet was quite satisfied to have the planning of the event left to her, without any unwanted input from her husband or her soon-to-be son-in-law. Mrs. Bennet had been preparing for her girls to wed for years, and now all that preparation and thought were finally put to use.

With the speed of the preparation, the holiday arrived quickly. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner arrived from London, and Elizabeth rejoiced for the diversion. On Christmas Eve, the Bennets, the Gardiners, and the Phillips decorated Longbourn with boughs of fresh greenery and mistletoe. The air was chilly, so it was delightful to stay inside, around the warm fire, and speak with one another, telling tales and sharing stories.

Elizabeth felt delightfully warm during this time, nestled in her favorite shawl and with her legs tucked up beneath her. She was grateful to have her family all together for such a festive occasion. It occurred to her it might be some time before they were together for the holidays again; with Kitty moving to Hunsford, it might be the case she and Mr. Collins did not return for Christmas. This caused a pang of sadness, but Elizabeth pushed the feeling away and turned her attention to Mr. Gardiner's story about a pig that somehow got loose on Grosvenor Street. His storytelling was quite amusing, and Elizabeth thought of how Mr. Darcy might act if he encountered a pig in London. Her laughter mixed with the rest of the family's as they enjoyed their evening together.

Christmas Day brought a flurry of activity. The morning began with church, and then the Bennets opened Longbourn to any tenants who might like to come and enjoy a cup of wassail. The tenants who visited brought treats from their own kitchens, as well as goodwill, for their landlords.

Later in the day, the family sat down for a large meal. Everyone ate their fill, and groans were heard when the plum pudding was presented. Regardless, everyone at the table managed a respectable serving. Lydia's mood lifted when she found the sixpence in her pudding.

She whispered to Elizabeth, "Kitty found the sixpence last year, and look what a lucky year she has had! This means I shall be wed by next Christmas, I know it does!"

Elizabeth smiled at her sister. What harm could it do to indulge her on Christmas?

As was often the way with Christmas, everyone was so busy the day passed in what seemed like a matter of minutes. Longbourn was warm, peaceful, and happy that night--exactly what a household ought to be on Christmas.

The following day, however, work began once again in earnest. Elizabeth was shocked to find, even with all the embroidering they had done, there was an entire set of napkins which had not been touched. She and Jane sat down and began the task of decorating them. Their attention was often diverted by the sight of their mother scurrying around the house, calling out to the servant and to her daughters.

"Whatever shall Mama do once Kitty is safely wed?" Elizabeth asked Jane.

Jane smiled. "I suspect she will take to her bed for a week. After that, I suppose she will turn her attention to getting another of her daughters married."

As she said these words, the smile slid from Jane's face, and Elizabeth knew she thought of Mr. Bingley.

"Well, whatever happens, you shall be secure in London, having a wonderful time."

Jane nodded at this, but she continued to look troubled.

***

After all the preparations, the wedding ceremony itself was simple and quick. Kitty looked lovely in a white embroidered gown with her hair pinned up perfectly, and everyone remarked on what a handsome couple she and Mr. Collins made. As Mr. Collins led his new bride from the church, Kitty wore an enormous smile and kept shaking her head as if she did not quite believe what had happened.

Mrs. Bennet acted utterly foolish during the ceremony, sobbing and carrying on in a way that distracted from the vows being taken. Finally, Mr. Bennet whispered that Kitty looked nearly as lovely as Mrs. Bennet had on their wedding day, and she was so touched her sobs miraculously ceased. Mr. Bennet handed her a handkerchief and the only noise she made for the remainder of the ceremony was an occasional sniff.

The wedding breakfast was held at Longbourn after the ceremony, and many of the people with whom the Bennets had just celebrated Christmas were back to mark yet another festive occasion. To the delight of both Lydia and Elizabeth, several of the officers attended the breakfast.

"It is too bad there are so many officers here with only me to speak with," Lydia said to Kitty, unable to let the day go without a bit of jealousy. But Kitty was far too happy with her new husband to pay any attention to her sister's comments.

Elizabeth was glad to see Mr. Wickham. It was his first time at Longbourn, and she enjoyed showing him around the main areas of the house. He seemed, as always, very interested in what she had to say, and asked her many questions about her childhood at Longbourn, which she answered readily.

"Shall you miss your sister terribly?" Mr. Wickham asked as he and Elizabeth walked.

"It will certainly be different without Kitty here. I do not know who will entertain Lydia in Kitty's absence."

Wickham glanced at Lydia, who spoke with three officers at the same time.

"I sense Lydia will not be at a loss for entertainment," he said drily. "Particularly if there is a fist fight over which one of them is going to court her."

"That would be dreadful," said Elizabeth, musing Lydia would think it anything but dreadful.

"I wonder which will be the next Bennet girl to be engaged," Wickham said, looking steadily at her.

Elizabeth felt her cheeks redden. It seemed as if he suggested she would be next, at his request. She glanced down at the floor, unable to answer. She finally found her voice.

"It is hard to say, with so many of us."

"Hmm. It does not seem so very difficult to me."

Their conversation shifted to ground on which Elizabeth felt steadier. Wickham kept the remaining conversation light, but he continued to be most attentive to Elizabeth and her needs. By the time the wedding breakfast finished, she was practically floating.

"Shall we begin preparations for another wedding?" her father asked her after their guests had left.

"I do not believe there is any need for that," Elizabeth replied primly.

"I have eyes, my dear," said Mr. Bennet, and retreated to his study with a smile.


	12. Chapter 12

After the hectic nature of the previous month, things at Longbourn had slowed down--nearly to the point of boredom. Elizabeth missed Jane dreadfully, although she knew Jane was better off occupied in London than idle in Hertfordshire. The two wrote to one another nearly every day. Jane remained silent on the matter of the Bingleys, which led Elizabeth to suspect Jane had not encountered any of them. Elizabeth was sad for her sister, but she wondered if it was not for the best. She feared if Jane did see any of the Bingleys, it would undo any emotional healing that had happened over the prior weeks.

Elizabeth's life had one bright point: she had more time to spend with Mr. Wickham. They often walked with Lydia and another of the officers back to Longbourn from town. The air was brisk, but neither Elizabeth or Lydia seemed to mind, and the officers were always in fine humor.

"How does Mrs. Collins find her new home?" Wickham inquired.

"She seems very happy," replied Elizabeth. "She says the parsonage is a very welcoming house, and Mr. Collins gave her leave to decorate it as she sees fit. Her letters are full of nothing but joy."

"What does she think of her husband's patroness?"

Elizabeth's lips quirked into a smile. "Kitty speaks highly of Lady Catherine, but I get the sense she is more afraid than impressed. I think Lady Catherine may not be quite as genial as Mr. Collins would have us believe."

"No!" said Wickham in mock horror. "I cannot imagine a relative of Mr. Darcy's could be anything other than sunny and kind."

"Will you tell me what conspired between you and Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked, giving voice to the question that had intrigued her since the Netherfield Ball. "I know you said there is a connection between your families, but you spoke as if he had offended you in some way in the past."

"Quite perceptive, Miss Elizabeth," Mr. Wickham said with a smile. "It is true Mr. Darcy caused me great harm."

"Would you be willing to speak of what happened?"

Mr. Wickham sighed. "I do not want to speak poorly of a man who is not here to defend himself, but as long as I speak the truth, my words cannot injure him--only his own conduct can do so. Mr. Darcy and I were raised quite nearly as brothers. My father was his father's steward, and old Mr. Darcy was exceedingly fond of me. Both old Mr. Darcy and my father died within a few months of each other. Mr. Darcy had thought of my future. He told young Mr. Darcy I ought to have the finest living available in the estate, as soon as it came available, but when the time arrived, young Mr. Darcy denied me the living I was promised. That is why I joined the militia."

Elizabeth stared at him, her eyes getting wider and wider as he spoke.

"Do not fret," Mr. Wickham said. "If I remained in Derbyshire, I never would have made your acquaintance, and what a tragedy that would be!"

Elizabeth smiled. "You are putting a fine face on it, but the way he treated you was shameful."

"It was purely jealousy. Old Mr. Darcy loved me like a son--loved me even more than his own son. Young Mr. Darcy could not see beyond that fact. He harmed me in the most effective way he could, in order to get revenge for the fact his father loved me more."

"I wonder that you could bear to be in the same room as him at the Netherfield Ball."

"You will notice I kept my distance. Although I tell myself my behavior ought not to change based on his presence, I can hardly so much as look at him. And when he went further and insulted you during the ball? It was nothing but your pleas that kept me from confronting him that night. I do wonder if he had heard of the friendship you and I have. I suspect he would like nothing more than to take something else I hold dear--and you certainly fit in that category."

Elizabeth blushed. "You are so kind, sir."

Mr. Wickham stopped walking, and Elizabeth stopped beside him. He took her hand. She was shocked by the familiarity of the action, but she did not immediately pull her hand away.

"I am not kind," he said, looking into her eyes. "I am simply honest. You are an extraordinary woman, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth looked into the deep brown of Mr. Wickham's eyes and saw nothing disagreeable in them. He sounded quite sincere, but she was not sure of his exact goal. She stared at him for far longer than was proper, and noticed a wide smile played across his face. Remembering herself, she finally broke eye contact and dropped his hand.

"Lydia is so far ahead. We should endeavor to catch up."

"Anything my lady wishes," Mr. Wickham said with a small bow.

They did not talk much for the remainder of the walk, but every time they looked at one another, they smiled as if they shared a secret.

***

Later that day, Lydia found Elizabeth alone in the sitting room.

"What did you and Mr. Wickham speak of?" Lydia asked.

"Just what we are always speaking of," said Elizabeth, straining to keep her voice light and not succeeding particularly well.

"I think not. I looked back at one point and he was holding your hand. Lizzy, are you and Mr. Wickham secretly engaged?"

Elizabeth would rue what came out of her mouth next.

"If I told you, it could not very well be a secret, could it?"

"I knew it! I told Denny Mr. Wickham was proposing, but he did not think so! Wait until I tell him I was right."

"But you were not right," said Elizabeth, trying to undo the damage of her previous statement. "I only meant if we were engaged, I would not tell _you_ if I intended it to stay a secret."

Lydia smiled. "I understand you completely, and I assure you I will be the picture of discretion."

"There is nothing to be discreet about!" Elizabeth said, frustration creeping into her voice. "Mr. Wickham and I are not engaged, secretly or otherwise!"

"If you say so, Lizzy. Do not worry, I will not speak of it to anyone."

"I hope you will not, because there is nothing to tell. Do you understand, Lydia? No offer was made."

"Of course," Lydia said with a sly smile. She then left the room quickly and purposefully, leaving Elizabeth to ponder the fact she might have just made a very unfortunate mistake.

***

The conversation with Lydia forced Elizabeth to confront certain thoughts that she had intentionally been avoiding. The conversation between her and Mr. Wickham was unusual, almost extraordinary. She had been shocked to hear of how poorly Mr. Darcy had treated Mr. Wickham--especially considering the air of superiority Darcy had about him! Elizabeth wished she could tell people about what a blackguard Mr. Darcy was, but she did not want to be so open about Mr. Wickham's personal business. She did spend several very satisfying minutes imagining how shocked people would be if they knew the truth about Darcy.

However, Mr. Darcy was not the topic Elizabeth tried so hard not to think of. Many of Mr. Wickham's actions and words earlier in the day had given her the impression he might like to tie his life to hers. He behaved more like her fiancé than her friend on their walk home. Elizabeth remembered the way his hand felt as it held hers, his grip somehow both strong and gentle at the same time. She felt a chill go down her spine at the thought of his eyes looking so intently into hers. It was difficult for her to deny she found him enjoyable to be around.

But was that enough? If Mr. Wickham was, indeed, preparing to propose, Elizabeth supposed she ought to give the idea some thought. She imagined life as Mr. George Wickham. He seemed like he would be an affectionate husband, and one who would be willing to listen to her ideas. She knew she could certainly do much worse--imagine being chained to that horrible Mr. Darcy!--but she was not sure her feelings about Mr. Wickham rose to the high standard she held for her future husband. Elizabeth had no intention of marrying someone just to be married. If that had been her concern, then she would have accepted Mr. Collins' offer. She did esteem Mr. Wickham, and she found him handsome and agreeable. What more could she possibly want in a husband? When people fell in love, was that not just another way of saying they found the person attractive and amiable?

Elizabeth further imagined what it would be like to be married to a militia officer. She needed think no further than the example of Colonel and Mrs. Forster. Mrs. Forster moved with the militia, but she did not seem to mind the instability of moving from place to place. Indeed, she appeared to enjoy meeting people, and she had ample opportunity to do so. Elizabeth imagined moving to different places, to seeing different parts of the country. Her natural curiosity about the world meant this thought was not a bad one. She would have the chance to see many different areas of the country, and meet all sorts of people.

Elizabeth then imagined arriving at a ball on the arm of Mr. Wickham, handsomely clad in his red regimental. She smiled to herself at the thought. They would make a striking couple, and how many young girls in the room would stare at her with envy? Elizabeth shook her head. Her daydreaming was making her think like Lydia, and that alarmed her. No more of those thoughts. She could be rational and reasonable, even about falling in love.

But regardless of her intentions the vision of dancing with Mr. Wickham continued to replay itself in her mind. In spite of what her head might think, her heart seemed to already be decided.

***

Elizabeth looked forward to the letters she received from Jane. This fact did not surprise her. What did surprise her was the fact she looked forward to her letters from Kitty almost as much. Kitty was surprisingly adept at letter-writing, and Elizabeth often saw an insight and a humor in Kitty's letters that she had never recognized in the girl herself. Marriage, instead of stifling Kitty, rather encouraged her to become the best version of herself. Elizabeth was delighted to get to know her sister better through these letters.

For this reason, Elizabeth was immediately receptive to Kitty's invitation to visit Hunsford.

_Dear sister, I should so like to introduce you to my home and my life in Kent,_ wrote Kitty.

Elizabeth realized she would enjoy that as well, and it would be a welcome change from the quiet. She was saddened at the idea of not seeing Mr. Wickham for some time, but the more she thought about the situation, the more she realized the distance would give her time to consider what she hoped for from their relationship, and she might also gain the clarity she longed for in deciding how to proceed.

"Meryton will be a sadder town without you," Wickham said when she told him of her planned trip. "With whom shall I converse? No one as amiable as Miss Elizabeth."

"I suspect you will survive the separation. Perhaps when I return, I will find you besotted with another girl, and I will be forgotten."

"It is more likely the moon will crash into the village square. It is not every day a man finds a friend such as you. It is not every lifetime."

Even though she was becoming more used to his compliments, this one was so effusive she felt her cheeks reddening. She had a fleeting thought that a trip to Hunsford would be a trip away from the danger of Mr. Wickham. If he kept speaking to her in such a way, she might lose her heart irredeemably.

"Promise me you will not forget me during your trip," Mr. Wickham said. "Even if Mr. Collins has an agreeable brother who is in search of a wife."

Elizabeth laughed. "There is no danger of that, sir. The man has no brothers."

Wickham smiled. "And hopefully no marriageable friends, either. I know it is selfish, but I will be imagining you seeing no one except your sister and her husband for the duration of your trip."

"Well," Elizabeth said with mock seriousness, "I might have the great honor of meeting the famous Lady Catherine de Bourgh during my time there. Do you think it possible I am worthy to look upon the face of such grace and glory?"

"You are aware I esteem you highly, madam, but no one could possibly be so worthy," said Wickham with a smile. "I suggest you shade your eyes so as not to be blinded by her brilliance."

"It shall be difficult, but I will persevere until I am good enough to exist in her presence. I hope you can live without me for an extended period, as I am certain such goodness will take some time to develop."

He stopped her and looked into her eyes. "I cannot, you know."

"Cannot what?"

"I cannot live without you. Hurry back, my dear Miss Elizabeth, before I die from a broken heart."

And with that, he gave her a low bow, turned, and began the return trip to Meryton, with a very conflicted Elizabeth watching his back.

***

Mr. Bennet insisted on accompanying Elizabeth on her trip to Kent. She was relieved for the company, as she did not relish the idea of going so far on her own. It surprised her that her father, who loved nothing more than being in his own library, would make such a trip.

"Well, I would like to see for myself that Kitty is settled in her new home," he said. "And who knows how much longer I have with you, Lizzy, before you are married and I cannot speak with you whenever the idea occurs to me."

"Papa, you act as if I am engaged."

"It could happen at any moment. Best not to squander any time,"

Elizabeth knew better than to say anything further, as her father would only use it as ammunition in a verbal game of which he was the master. Instead, she just smiled at him and thought to herself how much she appreciated his company.

Soon enough, bags were packed and the journey began. Elizabeth felt giddy at the prospect of the trip. She imagined how much she would enjoy seeing Kitty again, and how she would have a new area to explore on her walks. She imagined reading in the quiet of the sprawling garden that Kitty had spoken of in her letters. It would be a lovely change.

During the trip, Elizabeth and her father traded banter. There was no one in the world whom each preferred for a conversation partner more than the other. Mr. Bennet delighted in the fact Elizabeth had inherited his quick wit and his fondness for the absurd. Elizabeth was relieved to be able to voice her thoughts out loud without her mother censuring her for them. The trip seemed to fly by, so enjoyable was the company and the conversation.

"So, Lizzy, you have been spending quite a bit of time with Mr. Wickham," her father said, raising an eyebrow at her.

Elizabeth felt her cheeks redden. "We enjoy speaking to one another, Papa. That is all."

"Is it? Or ought I to be expecting a visit from him upon my return to Longbourn?"

"If he is to visit you, I have no idea of the reason," she responded.

"The fact you are being so very vague with me leads me to wonder if there is something you are not telling me. Your mother is convinced he will make you an offer any day, and now we speak of it, I am quite nearly convinced myself. From what I know of him, he will make an acceptable son-in-law. He must be a far cry less foolish than the one I already have."

Elizabeth stared at her lap. What would an acceptable response be to her father's line of questioning? She, herself, did not know exactly what Mr. Wickham's intentions were. He had made her no promises. All she had was her own suspicions about what would happen when she returned from Kent.


	13. Chapter 13

Kitty was out the door of the parsonage and running towards the carriage as it arrived at Hunsford.

"Lizzy! Papa!" she called. "You are very welcome. I am so happy to see both of you!"

Elizabeth allowed herself to be caught up in her sister's embrace for a moment, and took a step back to survey Kitty. She appeared much different from the young girl who had left Longbourn only months earlier. Her hair was pinned up sedately in a way more befitting a pastor's wife, and the cut of her dress was more conservative. Elizabeth thought how good these changes looked on Kitty.

"We are so happy to be here, my dear sister," Lizzy said, holding Kitty's hands. "What a lovely home!"

"Oh, pardon my manners. Please do come in."

Elizabeth and Mr. Bennet obliged and followed Kitty into the house. The entryway was humble but nonetheless inviting, and it was clear that much attention had been given to its decoration. Kitty led them down the hall and into a sitting room.

"Please do sit, and I will have tea brought for you," Kitty said. "You must be exhausted after your trip!"

"The trip was extremely draining," said Mr. Bennet gravely. "And I could not get Lizzy to stop talking about Mr. Wickham."

"Papa, you are wicked," said Elizabeth with a smile. "I suspect you speak so in hopes I will react. I shall not give you the satisfaction."

He sighed. "'Tis the problem with having a daughter who knows one so well," he lamented. "I am never able to use my tricks on her."

Kitty laughed. "I see you two have changed not a single bit. Please do make yourselves comfortable. I will return in a moment."

Elizabeth sat on a settee and took the opportunity to inspect the room. It was decorated in the same understated but tasteful style as what she had seen on their way inside.

Kitty returned and announced tea would be served soon.

"Are you responsible for the beautiful decoration of the house?" Elizabeth asked her. "I wonder where you found the time to do such a lovely and thorough job!"

"I wish I could take the credit for having such exemplary taste. No, this is how it was decorated when I arrived."

"Really! So it was decorated under Mr. Collins' orders?"

"Yes, although Lady Catherine oversaw things. I believe it is her refined and constant good taste which is responsible for the loveliness of the decoration."

Elizabeth privately wondered if this was true, but smiled at Kitty nonetheless.

"And where is Mr. Collins?" Elizabeth inquired.

"He had an errand to run in town, but he should be back soon."

The tea had arrived, and Kitty served with a practiced grace that surprised her sister.

"You seem well," Elizabeth said.

"I truly believe this is the role in life for which I was born: to be the helpmate of a man such as Mr. Collins."

Elizabeth gave her father a sharp look, concerned he would say something both amusing and improper. However, he wore a small smile on his face, as if he too saw Kitty in a new light.

"Papa, will you stay with us long?" Kitty inquired.

"No, my dear. I will trouble you only overnight. I suspect you have much you would like to share with Lizzy, and I do not want to impede upon that time."

"Truly, you are welcome to stay for as long as you would like."

Mr. Bennet raised an eyebrow at her. "And leave Longbourn in the hands of your mother, Mary, and Lydia? I think not. If I were to loiter for too long, the entire estate might be swallowed up whole simply due to mismanagement. I will leave tomorrow, but I thank you for your kind invitation. What do you plan to show Lizzy first?" he said, in an attempt to change the topic of conversation.

"If I know Lizzy at all, she will be anxious to explore the countryside, and there is much I am happy to show her. I'm sure you noticed the fine lawn of Rosings Park, just across the lane. We would not want to disturb Lady Catherine, but it is acceptable with her if we walk along the edge and admire the park from there. And in two days, it will be Sunday, and you will get to hear one of Mr. Collins' sermons, Lizzy! I know you have heard him speak before, but that is nothing to hearing him in front of the entire congregation. I daresay you will be proud to have him as a member of your family after that service!"

Elizabeth agreed she was already proud of her cousin, and proud of her sister as well. Kitty blushed at the compliment and gave Elizabeth a wide smile.

"I cannot believe you both are here, in my own house, and we are awaiting the return of my husband! If you had foretold this even half a year ago, I never should have believed you. Everything changed so very quickly, and so very wonderfully!"

Mr. Bennet, although pleased with his daughter's happiness, could only take so much unadorned optimism, and he had quite reached his limit. He excused himself to rest after the long journey.

"Oh, Lizzy, thank you so much for visiting me," said Kitty, taking Elizabeth's hands. "It is funny. I feel as if I am closer to you now than when we lived together."

Elizabeth smiled. "I feel the same. We have begun to understand one another better through letters than we have in the past."

"Thank you for accepting my invitation. I was not certain you would. Did this trip not take you away from a certain militia officer?"

"I am unaware of Mr. Wickham's intentions," said Elizabeth, glad for someone to talk to about her conflicted feelings. "Sometimes, he sounds as if he is about to propose to me, but then nothing happens. I do not know whether this is merely a flirtation, or if he means to ask me to marry him."

"It all sounds so very romantic!" sighed Kitty. "If he proposed, you would accept, would you not?"

"I am also unsure about that. I do so enjoy spending time with him. But how do you know when you love someone?"

Kitty glanced around furtively to make sure no one else was nearby.

"I did not love Mr. Collins when we wed," she whispered.

Elizabeth was startled. Kitty had seemed so certain in her engagement.

"I knew he was handsome, and I knew I was in a competition with Lydia that I was desperate to win. But I did not think too far into the future beyond my wedding. I was fortunate, because it was not soon after I arrived here I began to feel the stirrings of stronger feelings for Mr. Collins. I can now say, without a doubt, that I fall more deeply in love with him each day."

"But what if those feelings had never arrived?"

"I would still esteem him highly; that much was true when we married. So we would have mutual respect, and the shared desire for a family. Even without love, do you not think being married is preferable to not being married, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I do not know. I cannot imagine marrying without love. Perhaps I would prefer to be a spinster."

"And live with Mama and Papa forever?" Kitty asked.

Elizabeth sighed. "That does not seem like an ideal solution either, does it?"

"It does not. Lizzy, if Mr. Wickham asks for you, I think you ought to tell him yes. You get a certain light in your eyes when you speak of him. If you do not already love him, I believe you could learn to very easily."

"Perhaps you are right and I am just cautious. However, I am glad to be here, where I can spend time with you and postpone any such decision for a bit longer."

"Then our happiness is in concert," said Kitty, smiling at her sister. "Come, let me show you the rest of the house. You must see the closets. Mr. Collins is exceedingly proud of their shelves."

Elizabeth resisted the urge to laugh, as she did not want to hurt Kitty's feelings. Instead, she allowed herself to be led on a tour and was suitably impressed when presented with the myriad storage options at Hunsford.

***

The next day, Mr. Bennet arose, had a quick breakfast, and insisted on beginning the journey home.

"I will return for you, Lizzy," he said. "That is, unless you decide to stay forever."

"I would not think to impose upon my hosts in such a way," Elizabeth said with a smile. "I am sure when you come to retrieve me in several weeks, they will be more than prepared to bid me farewell."

Kitty and Mr. Collins attempted to convince Elizabeth nothing could be further from the truth, and Mr. Bennet took the opportunity to take his leave. By the time Kitty and Collins realized what had happened, the carriage was so far down the lane that all they could do was wave.

"Be safe, Papa!" called Kitty. "Send my love to my mother!"

Mr. Bennet's hand appeared and waved a final goodbye, and within moments, the only thing left visible was the dust cloud the carriage had stirred up.

"So!" said Mr. Collins, turning to Elizabeth. "What are we to do with you, Cousin Elizabeth?"

"I am easy to please, sir. It is not my intention to take you from the normal routine of your life. What would you be doing now, were I not here?"

"Mr. Collins often spends some time working on his sermon during the mornings," answered Kitty.

"Then I propose that is what you ought to do, Mr. Collins. I would hate to be the reason this week's sermon was not up to its usual high standards."

"That is very kind of you, but what shall you do?" asked Mr. Collins.

"Perhaps I can prevail upon my sister to take a walk with me. She spoke of a lovely walk along the lane when I arrived yesterday."

"That is a capital idea. Dearest, you can show your sister Rosings Park! I daresay, Cousin Elizabeth, you might well be overwhelmed with its grandeur. I was the first time I beheld it."

"Then it is something I am very happy to see. I should retrieve a shawl. Kitty, shall you be cold? Ought I to fetch one for you as well?"

Kitty maintained she was of a pleasant temperature, so Elizabeth went inside and found her shawl. Then, properly warm and with her sister at her side, the exploration of the area around Hunsford began.

***

From the parsonage, all that could be seen was the park around Rosings. Elizabeth and Kitty walked slowly along the lane. Elizabeth craned her neck for a view of Rosings Park; she was curious to see what sort of house would be grand enough for the famous Lady Catherine de Bourgh. It did not take long until the house came into sight. Although the park was just across the lane from Hunsford, the house was set quite a ways back. Nonetheless, Elizabeth had a good view of it as they proceeded down the lane.

Rosings Park was made of stone so white it was clear this was no ancient construction. Large windows reflected the sun, making it appear as if the house itself was glowing. The park was well-maintained, from the sparkling fountain to the perfectly manicured trees. In short, Rosings was quite as impressive as Elizabeth had been led to expect. However, there was something essential that felt as if it was missing. Some houses have a liveliness about them, even when all the inhabitants are at rest. Rosings felt rather the opposite: languid and stifled, as if it had been waiting for something to happen for a very long time and was beginning to give up hope.

"Is it not lovely?" said Kitty, looking up at the large house. "We have dined there twice, you know."

"You had mentioned in your letters. How did you find Lady Catherine?"

"She is quite as regal as you would expect. To tell you true, she makes me a bit nervous. She always looks at me as if she is disappointed with Mr. Collins' choice."

"Then she is foolish," said Elizabeth, taking her sister's hand. "Mr. Collins could not have chosen more wisely, and I do not care to meet anyone who believes otherwise."

"Oh, Lizzy, do not speak in such a way as we walk by the park! What if someone overheard you?"

"I care not for Lady Catherine's opinion of me, although I would not like my actions to make your life more difficult. I shall hold my tongue."

"Perhaps I am just being silly," said Kitty with a weak laugh. "I have not been in her presence often enough to ascribe meaning to her expressions."

"What is most important is your husband loves you, and you are happy."

"I am ever so happy, Lizzy, I assure you! When I think back to what a foolish young girl I was only a few months ago, I am ashamed."

"There is no need to be ashamed. In my experience, most girls of seventeen are at least a little foolish, but look how quickly you overcame that to become a wife."

"I feel this is where I am meant to be. Come, let us turn back. It looks as if it might rain."

Elizabeth and Kitty hurried back to Hunsford, and barely make it inside before the rain began to fall. They were met in the entry hallway by a very excited Mr. Collins.

"We have received an invitation to dine at Rosings Park tonight!" he said.

Kitty glanced at Elizabeth, hoping Elizabeth would not mention her feelings about Lady Catherine.

"What an honor," Elizabeth said, a bit weakly.

Mr. Collins looked her up and down. "But you cannot wear that."

Elizabeth looked down at her dress. It was a blue walking dress; obviously it was improper for dinner. Did Mr. Collins believe she had no sense of propriety at all?

"I brought a dinner dress," she responded.

"Kitty, go with Elizabeth and have a look, hmm? Although I am sure Lady Catherine will not be too offended as long as you try your best. She is aware there are those in truly humble situations, and she shall not judge you for that which you cannot control."

Elizabeth stared at him with her mouth open a bit, shocked at the idea of her being in a "truly humble situation.” He made it sound as if she was a foundling who had been left on their doorstep.

Kitty knew the expression Elizabeth wore, and hurried her away before Elizabeth could respond.

"Pardon him. He gets nervous when there is to be a dinner at Rosings," she whispered. "I am certain your dinner dress will be appropriate. But let us have a look, anyway."

Elizabeth allowed Kitty to lead her away. She was not in the slightest looking forward to the upcoming dinner.


	14. Chapter 14

The afternoon seemed to drag by. Mr. Collins continued to work on his sermon, and Kitty and Elizabeth spent a portion of the time preparing for dinner. Their hair needed to be set more ornately than they would have worn it for a simple dinner at home, and they needed to dress. There was much to do, but it was such dull work for such a minor prize that Elizabeth felt like the day was going on forever.

Finally, all the preparations were made and the Collinses and Elizabeth set off on foot for Rosings Park. Mr. Collins was in good spirits at the prospect of a dinner with Lady Catherine. Kitty seemed, as she had mentioned to Elizabeth during her walk, nervous about the idea of spending more time in Lady Catherine’s presence. As for Elizabeth, she was hoping for an uneventful evening that would be over quickly. She did not expect that she would be invited to dine at Rosings more than once during her trip, so she was eager to have it behind her.

The walk up to the main door of Rosings was as finely maintained as everything else she had seen of the estate. The greenery was well trimmed and flowers were planted at a uniform distance along the path. There was nothing that could be criticized, but, at the same time, neither was there anything that could be especially admired. Elizabeth wondered if the inside of the house would have the same blankness that the outside did.

Her question was soon answered as they were ushered into the house. The house was tastefully decorated. It was clear that plenty of money had been spent on decorating and furnishing Rosings. But it still lacked a feeling of vigor, as if everything inside was limply waiting for something to happen. Elizabeth shivered a bit, although the house was plenty warm. She already felt that she was not fond of Rosings.

They were ushered into a sitting room. At the far end, next to a roaring fireplace, sat three women. Mr. and Mrs. Collins and Elizabeth made their way across the room. It was immediately clear which one was Lady Catherine. She watched them with a disinterested haughtiness. Her chin was thrust forward so that she was actually looking down her face towards them, although they were standing and she was sitting. They approached her chair in silence, and Mr. Collins bowed, then Kitty curtsied.

“Lady Catherine de Bourgh, allow me to introduce my sister by marriage, Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” said Mr. Collins.

Elizabeth stepped forward and curtsied. Lady Catherine’s expression had not changed in the slightest since they had entered the room.

“You are welcome here, Miss Bennet,” she said in a voice that did not sound welcoming in the slightest. “This is my daughter, Miss Anne de Bourgh.”

Elizabeth curtsied once again at the tiny woman who sat to the side of Lady Catherine. Even with the fire in the room built up, Miss de Bourgh was still wrapped tightly in a shawl. A woman sat to her side, fussing over her. Elizabeth suspected this woman to be Anne’s nurse.

Then, out of the shadows to the side of the room stepped someone that Elizabeth never imagined she would see at Rosings—Mr. Darcy.

“Miss Bennet,” he said with a bow. “How nice to see you again.”

“And you, Mr. Darcy,” she said, although she did not mean it. “I did not expect to find you here.”

“I have come to visit my aunt.” Darcy gestured to his side, and Elizabeth noticed that another man was standing next to him. “Miss Bennet, allow me to introduce my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam stepped forward and bowed deeply. “It is an honor, Miss Bennet,” he said. Elizabeth noticed that the Colonel had bright blue eyes that danced with mirth. Although he was not nearly as handsome as his taciturn cousin, he seemed much more amiable, and she liked him immediately.

After introductions were made, there was an awkward silence while everyone waited to see who would speak next. Predictably, it was Lady Catherine.

“How do you find Kent, Miss Bennet?” she asked.

“It is quite lovely. Kitty and I walked along the edge of your park yesterday and I very much enjoyed the scenery.”

“I should think that it is quite a pleasant change from Hertfordshire,” Lady Catherine sniffed. “I have never visited, but I have heard the most abominable things about the weather there.”

Elizabeth stared, her mouth open a bit in surprise. She had never considered the weather in Hertfordshire, but it did not seem much different from the weather she had experienced in Kent. And how ought one to respond when their local weather is disparaged? Elizabeth could not find a single word.

“Yes,” said Lady Catherine with a firm nod. “Your silence is all the confirmation that I need that I have heard correctly. It must be ghastly to live there.”

Of all the people who could help her, Elizabeth did not expect it to be Darcy.

“Actually, Aunt, the weather was quite mild when I visited,” he said.

“Hmm. Well. Perhaps you were there during a rare spell of fine weather,” his aunt replied, and her tone informed everyone listening that, as far as she was concerned, the subject was closed. Elizabeth was not upset at the slightest to be done with the conversation.

Lady Catherine declared it time to go through to the dining room, so it was done. Elizabeth found herself seated between Mr. Collins and Colonel Fitzwilliam. Since she had said nearly all there was to say to Mr. Collins during her visit so far, Elizabeth was pleased that the Colonel seemed receptive to conversing with her.

“How fortunate that your sister wed Mr. Collins, so that I might get the chance to meet you,” he said.

“Yes, fortunate for all of us, I believe,” Elizabeth said, returning his smile.

“How have you really found your trip? No need to speak of the weather.”

“It has been quite diverting, and the parsonage is lovely.”

“Well, as far as I am concerned, you ought to stay forever. You add a charming decoration to our party, and I hear that you are quite a wit, as well.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Whoever told you that I am ‘quite a wit’ is exaggerating, sir,” she said.

“I think not,” said the Colonel, glancing across the table at Darcy. “If anything, he tends towards understatement.”

Elizabeth also looked at Darcy, startled that the opinion of her had come from him rather than from Mr. Collins or Kitty. He met her eyes and looked at her levelly, his gaze giving no hint as to what he might really be thinking.

“Did I hear myself referred to?” he asked mildly.

“I was just sharing your opinion on Miss Bennet with her,” the Colonel replied, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile.

Darcy looked momentarily worried, but then the taciturn calmness returned to her face.

“Are you speaking of what a skilled dancer she is?” he asked.

Elizabeth just barely resisted the urge to snort.

“No, I am speaking of her wit,” the Colonel replied.

“What is all this about wit, then?” asked Lady Catherine, clearly upset at not being in the middle of the conversation. “I do not feel that wit is one of the characteristics that most recommends a young lady.”

“Lady Catherine, please do tell us the characteristics that recommend a young lady,” said Mr. Collins. “I am certain that Miss Bennet would be edified to hear your wisdom.”

“Well,” began Lady Catherine, clearly pleased to be called on as an expert, “the most obvious thing is breeding, but that is out of a young lady’s control. However, those young ladies who are well-born will naturally be better at that which they put their mind to. It is just like a racehorse—when superior stock is bred, the result will likewise be superior.”

Elizabeth stared with her mouth ajar. She did not agree with Lady Catherine in the slightest, but she did not make a sound in order to hear what her hostess might say next.

“If a young lady has not had the fortune to be well-born, there are things that she can affect to improve herself. She ought to be competent at needlecraft, drawing, and music, and she should be exceptional in at least one of those fields. She should be demure and respectful towards her elders and towards others that she might interact with in society. She should make a special effort to enhance her natural beauty, but ought not to cover it up by artificial means like ribbons and feathers. Why, for example, Anne is an example of an exceptional young woman. Although she does not play the pianoforte, I am convinced that she would be exceptional at it. What is more, her needlework and drawing are superb. She is well-bred and quite lovely in a natural sort of way. Yes, I think that more young women ought to strive to be like Anne.”

Anne fidgeted in her seat a bit, clearly embarrassed by her mother. Lady Catherine finished speaking and looked around the table severely, as if daring someone to disagree with her. After a moment, someone did.

“Aunt, I think you overlook the importance of wit in a modern young lady.”

“Modern! I have no need for modern young ladies, Darcy, and neither should you.”

“I mean to say that things are changing. A man today is not looking for a pretty girl who plays pianoforte and embroiders but does not have an interesting thought in her head. Most young men hope for a life partner that can challenge them and make them the best versions of themselves.”

“I think you are quite wrong!” said Lady Catherine indignantly. “Fitzwilliam, what think you of the description Darcy has just made?”

“My fervent wish is not to become involved in a conversation where I am guaranteed to upset someone. I will only say that a young lady who is beautiful, talented, _and_ witty shall not have a problem finding a good husband.”

“And neither shall a girl who has been born to a good family and raised properly,” said Lady Catherine, with an air of finality.

Elizabeth saw Darcy’s eyes flicker to Anne when Lady Catherine made her last statement. It was clear of whom Lady Catherine spoke.

The party was silent for a moment. Lady Catherine clearly considered the conversation finished, and none of her guests had any inclination to revive it.

“Mrs. Collins, Miss Bennet, how are your sisters?” Mr. Darcy inquired.

“Well, Lizzy should know better than I,” said Kitty with a smile. “I only know what I hear in letters, and those letters are usually from Lizzy.”

“Well, Mary and Lydia are much as you last saw them,” said Elizabeth. “Jane has gone to London to stay with our aunt and uncle. Perhaps you have seen her?”

“No, I cannot say that I have,” said Darcy.

“And how is Mr. Bingley? Have you seen him recently?”

“Bingley is well. I was with him in town only a few days ago. He has many diversions in London.”

“Does he intend to quit Netherfield for a long time?” asked Elizabeth.

“He has indicated to me no desire to return anytime soon,” Darcy said.

“That is a shame. My sister was very saddened that she did not get to speak with him before he left.”

Elizabeth mulled over what she had just learned. If Darcy was with Bingley only a few days prior and did not know that Jane was in London, Jane and Bingley probably had not yet met. And if Mr. Bingley had no plans to return to Netherfield, who knew how long it might be before they saw one another again?

Mr. Collins filled the silence by rhapsodizing over the fine quality of the potatoes. He managed to fill nearly five minutes speaking of how such a humble thing as a potato could be glorious if it was treated correctly, and then attempted to compare people to potatoes. Elizabeth noticed the colonel smiling into his napkin, and it solidified her opinion that he was a fine sort of man.

The final courses were served, and the conversation continued much in the same way: Lady Catherine lectured on how things ought to be done, Mr. Collins was effusively complimentary to everything that his patroness said, Darcy asked general questions that were answered quickly, and Elizabeth and Colonel Fitzwilliam shared several laughing glances.

Elizabeth was relieved that a portion of the evening, at least, was over with the meal. Lady Catherine suggested that they retire to the sitting room for entertainment.

“Mrs. Collins, you mentioned that you play the pianoforte the last time you dined here,” said Lady Catherine. “I would like some music. Please play for us.”

Elizabeth sat next to Kitty on the piano bench to turn the pages of her music.

“I told her that I play the pianoforte _poorly_,” Kitty whispered to Elizabeth.

“I believe Lady Catherine hears what she wishes to,” Elizabeth whispered back. She was secretly glad that Lady Catherine had not asked her to play; that would make for an abominable evening for player and audience both!

Kitty looked over the music.

“I cannot play this,” she said. “I will have to play something that I already know.”

“Then I suppose I must go speak with people,” said Elizabeth. “I cannot pretend to turn invisible pages, I do not believe.”

Elizabeth left her sister with whispered words of support and perched on the settee that was as far away from Lady Catherine as possible.

The remainder of the evening passed somewhat awkwardly. Kitty did, indeed, play poorly. Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy engaged Elizabeth in conversation. The colonel continued to be charming, and Darcy continued to be Darcy. Elizabeth knew better than to set high expectations for his behavior. He seemed a bit more nervous than usual, however, and Elizabeth momentarily wondered why. Then she remembered that she did not care in the slightest why Mr. Darcy did what he did, and turned her attention more fully to the story that Colonel Fitzwilliam was telling.


	15. Chapter 15

Two days after they dined at Rosings, a letter came for Elizabeth. She turned the envelope over in her hand, unable to discern the handwriting. It was obviously not from Jane, and the only other person with whom she corresponded regularly was Kitty. Also, it appeared to be written by a male hand.

Elizabeth opened the letter with trepidation, and looked at the signature before anything else.

"G. Wickham."

Elizabeth felt her stomach drop. It was extremely improper for an unmarried man to send correspondence to an unmarried lady. To do so was sometimes, in itself, seen as a proposal of marriage. Why would Mr. Wickham do something as shocking as sending her a letter?

Her eyes scanned the page, hoping he had not bypassed etiquette because of some sort of emergency. The letter contained only a few lines, and did not seem to point to an emergency.

_Dear Miss Bennet,_

_As I feared, Meryton very keenly feels your loss. I hardly know what to do with myself without you here. I do not believe the sun has shined once since you left._

_Denny and I see quite a bit of Lydia. She is as boisterous as ever, and bade me to send her regards when I told her I was writing. I am trying my hardest to watch over her, but, as you know, that is not always an easy task._

_I have something I wish to speak with you about as soon as you return. It is of the utmost importance. Please, do come back soon._

_ Wickham_

Elizabeth's hands trembled as she held the letter. For what could he wish to talk to her, aside from proposing marriage? It would explain why he took the unusual step of mailing her. She read the letter over once again, and the meaning seemed even clearer the second time. Wickham was hinting he planned to propose.

She sat down hard. She could send no reply to him; one impropriety ought not beget another; but even if she could send a letter, she did not have the slightest idea of what she might say. Of course, she considered the idea Mr. Wickham might propose, but she never had cause to give the idea serious thought. It seemed her time to think was confined to the weeks she remained at Hunsford.

There were many reasons she thought Mr. Wickham would be an amiable husband. He was handsome and good-natured, smart and witty. What woman would not want such things in a husband? But Elizabeth could not convince herself without reservation that she would accept him.

Perhaps what caused her pause was not Mr. Wickham, but rather the idea of marriage at all. She imagined what it might be like to wed someone like Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was also a delightful conversation partner. He did not make her heart beat as quickly as Mr. Wickham, but he was a good man and would make a fine husband. At the thought of marrying Colonel Fitzwilliam, her heart fluttered less, but her head felt calmer. It seemed her issue was not with marriage, but with the man.

She could not think of a single reason she should refuse Mr. Wickham if he asked. Although she could not say she loved him, she liked him quite a bit. Also, since Kitty married Mr. Collins, there was less pressure on Elizabeth to make an advantageous match. But there was something about Mr. Wickham that stuck in her mind like a burr. She could not determine what the issue was, or whether it was a sensible rejection. All she knew was the letter did not fill her with the sort of joy a woman ought to feel at the idea of her sweetheart proposing marriage.

Elizabeth felt as if she was in a fog for the remainder of the day. By bedtime, she was no closer to making a decision than she was been immediately after receiving the letter. Sleep did not find Elizabeth that night for quite some time.

***

Elizabeth woke up the next day with a clearer head. She finally managed to fall asleep, and the rest did her well. It also gave her an idea as to how to proceed: since she had time before she needed to give an answer, she would spend a few days pretending she had made the decision to marry Mr. Wickham. It might give her time to work out why the idea bothered her. Then she would spend several days pretending as if she had decided to refuse him, and see how that made her feel.

She suspected her plan would work best if she committed fully, so she decided right then she would marry Mr. Wickham. Of course, she would keep this information to herself; without a formal proposal, it would be indelicate to tell anyone even if she didn't have reservations. But in her mind, she told herself the decision was made and she would marry Wickham.

A sense of relief rolled over Elizabeth, that she did not have to wrestle with the decision for several days. She thought of what it might be like to be Mr. Wickham's wife. First, the details: where would they live? That one was both simple and difficult to answer. They would live where the militia took them. In the summer, that would mean Brighton. In the winter, any number of villages much like Meryton. Since Mr. Wickham had recently enlisted, Elizabeth could expect this sort of transient existence for several years, at least.

This was not to say there would not be diversions of all sorts as the wife of an officer. She saw how much leisure time the officers in Meryton had. She could expect a sufficiently full social schedule as Wickham's wife--perhaps more than sufficient.

Would that be enough for her, though? Elizabeth's brow creased as this thought crossed her mind. It must be, for my decision is made, she told herself sternly. By marrying Mr. Wickham, she would be consigning her life to uncertainty for at least some time.

But, she reminded herself, a marriage to Mr. Wickham is not without its advantages! She enjoyed speaking with him, and he listened to her when she spoke. Already, he had more appeal than many men, who believed women did not have a rational thought in their head. In addition, they was no way to deny he was fine to look at. She closed her eyes, imagining what it would be like to be his wife, and the prospect was not unpleasant whatsoever.

Her mind was still not entirely calm, so she set out to do what calmed her the most: she went for a walk. Just down the lane from Rosings, she noticed a footpath that led away from the lane and decided to take it. She walked under the shade of some trees and around the corner. There she startled and stopped. Mr. Darcy held on to a fence post and shaking his boot.

Elizabeth considered turning around and very carefully retracing her steps before he saw her. However, that solution was lost to her as he looked up and locked eyes with her.

"Miss Bennet!" he said, putting his boot back on. "I did not expect to find you here."

"I desired a walk," she said lamely, and inwardly flinched.

"What a coincidence. I also wished to clear my head. Perhaps we can walk together?"

Elizabeth desperately wracked her brain for a reason she could not, but no excuse could be found. She gave Mr. Darcy a strained smile and nodded.

The walk began awkwardly. Neither Elizabeth nor Darcy wanted to be the first to speak, so they were silent for a period. Finally, Darcy spoke.

"Did you enjoy your dinner at Rosings the other night?" he asked.

"It was certainly informative. I enjoyed meeting your cousin."

"Yes, Colonel Fitzwilliam is welcome wherever he goes. I am often envious of his easy charm."

"It seems you were surrounded by charming people during your youth," said Elizabeth shortly.

"Do you speak of Mr. Wickham?" Darcy said, an edge in his voice.

"I do, sir. He spoke to me of what transpired between the two of you."

"So I see you have been given a bad impression of me."

"You gave a bad impression of yourself. Any other person would make the same judgment as I."

"Is that what you believe?"

"What else am I to believe? To deny a man his living out of pure jealousy! Would you like to be commended for such actions, sir?"

"Ah, so that is what he told you. No wonder your opinion of me is so poor."

"Did you think he would not tell me? When we are so close he has..."

She realized she said too much and abruptly stopped speaking.

Darcy was instantly alert. "What has he done, Miss Bennet?" he asked. "Has he made you an offer?"

"I do not see how that is your business whatsoever. Your permission is not required, so I see no need to tell you of the state of my relationship with Mr. Wickham."

"If he had not offered, you would deny it, so he has. Miss Bennet, I counsel caution."

"Who are you to counsel me in anything?" said Elizabeth, her voice rising.

"I am someone who knows your fiancé better than do you."

"He is not my fiancé."

"That gives me cause to hope you have not yet answered him. Do not accept him, Miss Bennet. He will ruin your life. He quite nearly ruined the life of someone who is most dear to me."

Elizabeth stopped walking. "That is a heavy charge to lay on anyone. Do you care to tell me the history behind it?"

"The story is not mine to tell. Please, just trust I have your best interest in mind."

"Did you have Mr. Wickham's best interest in mind when you denied him his living?"

"Has it occurred to you the situation to which you refer may not have happened exactly as it has been described to you?"

"Well, that story was told to me by a man who treats me civilly, defends my honor, and thinks me more than 'barely tolerable.’ And the man who opposes it has insulted me on more than one occasion. Whom ought I to believe?"

"I do not see what your wounded pride has to do with who is telling the truth," said Darcy, a bit hotly.

"Of course you do not, Mr. Darcy, and that is why it is best for both of us for this conversation to end now."

Elizabeth turned and started back towards Hunsford, angry at him for what he said and angry at herself for how much it bothered her.


	16. Chapter 16

Elizabeth returned to Hunsford and made an excuse to Kitty that her head hurt. Kitty saw Elizabeth to bed and arranged for her tea to be brought to her. In all honesty, Elizabeth's head hurt from gritting her teeth together, and what she needed more than anything else was time to consider what Mr. Darcy told her.

Why was he so devoted to making her miserable? It seemed she was not the focus of his spite; he had been ruining Mr. Wickham's life for much longer. And to try and ruin their engagement, just to hurt Wickham! Elizabeth's jaw clenched harder at the thought that Darcy, who was born with everything, would do anything within his power to damage Wickham. What an abominable person!

Bessie, the maid, brought tea in and left it on the side table. It was all Elizabeth could do to manage a smile for her. Bessie did nothing wrong; Elizabeth realized she needed to be exceedingly careful not to take her anger out on anyone except Mr. Darcy. She barely tasted the tea as she sipped it, but enjoying the ritual nonetheless.

If Darcy's plan was to drive her away from Wickham, he failed miserably. Anything that was good for Darcy could not possibly be good for Wickham, or, by extension, her. Elizabeth remembered back to the Netherfield Ball, where Wickham had been so eager to protect her from Darcy. Her mouth softened into a small smile. Wickham made it clear that night he would protect and defend her; were those not agreeable characteristics for a husband?

Why, she hardly remembered her earlier concerns about Mr. Wickham. Perhaps she should find Mr. Darcy and thank him for providing her with the clarity she was lacking. Mr. Darcy's ungallant behavior had reminded her just what a gentleman Mr. Wickham was.

As she finished her tea, Elizabeth thought uncharitable thoughts about how her engagement would enrage Mr. Darcy. All that work to convince her to refuse Wickham, and all he did was strengthen her decision. She smiled to herself, happy she would be bringing joy to a man like Wickham and sorrow to one like Darcy.

***

Elizabeth's chastisements of Darcy could not possibly be harsher than those in his own mind. He had planned to speak with Elizabeth for several days, but she had surprised him on the path. He had hoped to convince her Wickham was a dangerous rogue, but the conversation did not turn out at all as he intended. She insisted on being offended at every word which came out of his mouth. What was more, she completely believed the falsehoods George Wickham was spreading about him.

Ah, Wickham: the rock in the boot Darcy could never rid himself of. He had lacked grace when he deduced Wickham had proposed to Elizabeth, but he had not lacked insight. Elizabeth believed Wickham either had or was soon to make an offer. She had not shown a single sign during their dinner at Rosings she had formed this connection; he suspected it to be a recent occurrence. But how could that be, with Elizabeth in Kent and Wickham in Hertfordshire?

Perhaps Wickham followed Elizabeth to Rosings. Darcy could not imagine why he would do so; if Wickham hoped to confront Darcy, he would choose more neutral ground. Likewise, the trip was long, and, although the militia members seemed to spend most of their time trifling about, Darcy suspected Wickham could not be absent long enough to travel to Kent without his superior officers noticing.

What other methods were there, then, by which Elizabeth could have bound herself to Wickham in the few days since the dinner at Rosings? There was always the post, but the impropriety of sending a letter through the post to a woman one had no current connection to--surely even George Wickham would not attempt such a thing. A large part of the reason Wickham did so well in society was his ability to pretend to be genteel. Writing a letter to a woman he was not engaged to would risk that impression.

Perhaps he did not understand the situation properly. What if Elizabeth promised herself to Wickham prior to her trip to Kent? There were not many things Elizabeth did poorly, but he noticed she sometimes spoke without thinking of the ramifications of what she might say. He did not think she would have made it through the entire dinner, and the conversation with the Colonel afterwards, without making some sort of allusion to her engagement, whether intentional or not.

Darcy shook his head. This idea of an engagement between them was new. Wickham had probably made the offer via the post. The only hope Darcy still possessed was that the engagement was not yet formal, and he might still have time to convince Elizabeth what a monumental mistake a marriage to Wickham would be.

***

Elizabeth made every effort to distract herself from both the frustrating conversation with Mr. Darcy and the decision she believed awaited her back in Hertfordshire. She read through all three of the novels she brought with her. She accompanied Kitty to bring supplies to the less fortunate. She even weeded around Mr. Collins' cucumber plants. However, no amount of industry could keep her mind entirely serene. If she was not worried about a conversation with one man, she was worried about a conversation with the other.

Kitty's skills of observation increased at the same time her foolishness decreased, and she saw something bothered her sister. She waited for Elizabeth to share the burdens of her mind, but the sharing did not happen. Finally Kitty could no longer stand seeing her normally happy sister so morose. She sat Elizabeth down in the sitting room.

"I know you received a letter a week ago. I do not have any wish to pry, but it seems to have caused you distress. If there is any way I can reduce that distress, I do hope you will tell me."

Elizabeth promptly burst into tears. First, they were tears of frustration; then they were tears of shame for being so bothered by the fact. Kitty placed a sympathetic hand on Elizabeth's arm, and Elizabeth threw her arms around her sister and sobbed.

"I am so embarrassed," Elizabeth finally managed to say.

"What happened? Lizzy, please do tell me if you can. I cannot bear to see you like this."

"I think Mr. Wickham proposed to me, but I cannot be certain," said Elizabeth, wiping her eyes.

"Well, of all the things you might have said I was not expecting that. Can you tell me from whence this confusion arises?"

Elizabeth felt like a dam broke inside her, and the words began to tumble out. How Mr. Wickham wrote to her. How she knew the impropriety of receiving a letter from him, but she had to know what it said. The esoteric way the letter was written and how it seemed perfectly clear and utterly confusing all at once.

"Oh, Lizzy. I am so sorry you did not feel like you could speak with me about this."

"It was not that. I was just trying to take some time to work out for myself how I felt before I burdened anyone else with it."

Kitty took Elizabeth's hands. "It is never a burden to help my sister. I wish for nothing but your happiness."

"But that is just the issue, Kitty. I cannot determine whether marriage to Mr. Wickham would make me happy, and I feel so foolish. For my entire life, I have known my own mind and disdained girls who moped about thinking of nothing but men, and now I am one of those girls! I ought not to be spending so much time thinking about this. It is quite unlike me. I was doing much better before I spoke to Mr. Darcy, but now I am more confused than ever."

"Mr. Darcy? What has he to do with this?"

Elizabeth told Kitty of her recent conversation with Mr. Darcy.

"How dare he!" Elizabeth said, her tears turning to anger. "As if he has any right to advise me about...well, about anything!"

Kitty gave her sister a troubled look. "But Lizzy, what reason does he have to try to stop your engagement?"

"To hurt Wickham, of course."

Kitty shook her head slowly. She had never been more logical than Elizabeth, so she instantly doubted herself, but she continued on. "Do you think Mr. Darcy would care so very much about hurting Mr. Wickham? Has he not, by Wickham's telling, already won the battle?"

"I would not doubt he does everything in his power to continue deviling poor Wickham."

Kitty sat still for a moment, holding her sister's hands. Then she took a deep breath and spoke.

"Once, about a year ago, Lydia and I were heading for Meryton. Mary had told us it was to rain, but we paid her no mind. There were clouds in the sky, but they were lovely white ones. Mary suggested we take cloaks, but it was a fine day, and I had no desire to have my dress covered with a cloak for no reason. Mary became very insistent--you know how she can be--and Lydia and I raced out the door to get away from her. Halfway to Meryton, the sky opened up and we were drenched."

Elizabeth smiled. "I believe I recall the two of you coming home looking quite damp."

"Quite damp, indeed! Soaked to the bone. A cloak would not have kept me dry, but it would have kept much of the rain off, and I would have been much more comfortable. When we walked in the house, Mary was standing in the corner, and she gave me that superior Mary look she has.

“If you listened,” she said, “this would not have happened.”

“Well, a week passed and the events threatened to repeat themselves. Mary was watching, so there was no way I was going to give her the satisfaction of putting a cloak on. Lydia and I marched out the door. The sky was much more obviously dim than the previous day; any fool could see it was going to rain. But I would not allow myself to believe it, because I so desperately did not want Mary to be right.

“We only made it a bit down the road before the rain began again, and luckily we were able to run home before we were completely soaked. I refused to even glance at Mary when Lydia and I ran through the door.

“After that, I began wearing a cloak if it looked like rain. I sometimes saw Mary nodding with satisfaction to see I finally heeded her advice."

Elizabeth smiled; hearing Kitty's story made her feel as if she was home once more and surrounded by her sisters.

"Here is the heart of the matter, Lizzy," continued Kitty. "Mary was never one ounce uncomfortable, while I was rained upon twice. My stubbornness ensured only that I repeatedly got wet."

"So, if I understand this correctly, I am you, Mr. Darcy is Mary, and Wickham is the rain?" Elizabeth asked.

"Quite so!" said Kitty, relieved Elizabeth understood so quickly. "You may not want to hear what Mr. Darcy says about Mr. Wickham, Lizzy, but that does not necessarily mean he speaks a falsehood."

Elizabeth sat back, too deep in thought to respond. What Kitty said made sense--so much sense Elizabeth could not believe she had not considered it before. She had been so convinced of Mr. Wickham's innocence and Mr. Darcy's guilt, but it was not at all like Elizabeth to make judgments with no real facts to back them up. She recalled Mr. Darcy's statement about her damaged pride, and she was ashamed to realize he might have spoken the truth. What evidence did she have otherwise? No evidence, other than Wickham's words. Wickham was a great deal more amiable than Darcy, but did that mean he was more truthful?

There was a small voice of doubt in Elizabeth's mind, and it took the idea of Wickham being dishonest and wove all sorts of tales, playing them out in front of her. She shook her head, but that tiny voice would not be silenced. It hovered at the edge of her mind like a small splinter, causing a disproportionate amount of discomfort.

There was only one thing that could be done about the situation. She had to speak with Darcy again. If she could find a falsehood in what he spoke of, she would know his word could not be trusted. If no falsehood was found, it did not mean Darcy was innocent. The only way she would get an answer was to catch him in a lie. Hopefully that would destroy the bit of doubt that was pestering her mind.

"Thank you, Kitty," she said, hugging her sister. "You provided me with a clarity I did not have before."

Kitty was relieved Elizabeth was not upset with her, but she had not the slightest clue what Elizabeth would do next. Knowing Elizabeth, though, Kitty decided it would be a good idea to keep close watch.


	17. Chapter 17

Darcy attempted to focus on what his aunt was saying, but his mind would not obey. It kept drifting back to thoughts of Elizabeth Bennet in George Wickham's embrace. Darcy already consciously unclenched his teeth three times during dinner, and he suspected he would continue to find them clenched throughout the evening. Why must she be so incredibly stubborn?

While he had been somewhat reasonable after his conversation with Elizabeth during their walk, the days since saw his anger increase. He did not know why he was cast as the villain, when all he wished to do was keep her safe from that scoundrel--and she had the audacity to consider Wickham to be the gentleman in this situation! Darcy snorted indignantly.

"I say, Darcy, whatever is the matter?" his aunt asked sharply, clearly not pleased with being interrupted.

"It is nothing."

"It did not sound like nothing. It quite sounded like something, and I would like to know what."

Darcy resisted the urge to sigh. He knew his aunt would not abandon the topic until she thought she won. "I am having a dispute with one of my tenants, and I was considering the best way to remedy the situation."

"Well, there is only one thing that can be done! If one of your tenants is disagreeing with you, you must evict him! Who is he to question your judgment?"

Darcy already regretted choosing that particular lie. "Well, the situation is a good deal more complicated than that."

"But it does not have to be! Anne, I hope you are listening, because when you are the mistress of a grand manor like Pemberley, you will need to deal with such things."

Darcy was not sure if his aunt spoke of Anne being the mistress of Pemberley itself, or just a similar manor. Neither one was especially likely. His aunt mistakenly believed he and Anne would be married, despite his gentle attempts to dissuade her. It was not until after his mother died Lady Catherine began speaking of this betrothal which had existed "since Anne and Darcy were born." He suspected the betrothal was more a figment of his aunt's imagination than of any actual promise. His father lacked any awareness of such a betrothal, and that lent credence to Darcy's way of thinking.

He understood why his aunt was so determined to marry him to Anne. She was a frail thing, her ill health requiring most of her strength just to sit upright. There would be no balls for Anne, no opportunity to meet appropriate suitors. Even if those suitors were met, what man would choose a wife who might be too delicate to bear children? Indeed, Anne's marriage prospects were dismal.

Darcy did not feel too sorry for his cousin, however. As Lady Catherine's sole heiress, Anne would inherit a great fortune, and without a father or a husband, she would have the freedom to do what she wished with her money. Darcy spoke with her about her dreams, and he knew she one day hoped to turn Rosings into a literary salon and surround herself with interesting ideas and even more interesting people without being required to leave the estate. Lady Catherine would be horrified with such a plan, so Anne only spoke of it in longing whispers, like another woman might speak of a secret lover.

It comforted him to know he was not jilting his cousin, of whom he was quite fond. However, none of this solved the issue that Lady Catherine believed, whole-heartedly, he and Anne were going to marry. No amount of hinting by either of them dislodged this particular belief from her mind.

Darcy returned his mind to the present, and realized his aunt waited for a response from him.

"My apologies, Aunt, what was that?" he asked.

"I said, do you still plan to remain for another fortnight?" she said crossly.

Darcy thought for a moment. His primary reason for visiting Rosings was to speak with Elizabeth, and he had spoken with her, although he did not get the resolution he hoped for. He could be back on the road to Pemberley by the following day, if he wished. He was struck with a pang of homesickness for Derbyshire. He needed to get away from his failed conversation with Elizabeth. It was clear she had no intention of listening to sense, so perhaps the most prudent move for him would be to leave as soon as possible.

But no, he could not leave. He knew Elizabeth to be rational, and suspected her stubbornness was the impediment to her understanding of him. He needed to try once more to reason with her. Even if he did not feel so strongly about her, no woman should marry George Wickham without understanding his real character. He could not give up so easily and allow Elizabeth to tie herself to that rogue for the rest of her life.

"My plans remain unchanged."

"And you, Fitzwilliam?" she asked of the Colonel.

"I am at Darcy's disposal; if he wishes to stay, then I am delighted to do so."

"Then that is settled. I shall invite the Miss Webbs for dinner. I am certain the company will be finer than what they are used to, but they shall manage."

Darcy nodded vaguely. Lady Catherine launched into a discussion about how the evening with the Miss Webbs was to unfold. Darcy pitied anyone who might get between his aunt and the way she expected things to be. Luckily for him, she was so intent on speaking she paid little mind to whether he listened closely. As long as he nodded occasionally, she would be placated.

This gave him time to think back to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He wished the impression he made on her was more favorable; he erred grievously the first night they met, and he knew her pride would make it difficult for her to see him as anything besides the man who insulted her. If he could undo those words, he would do so in an instant. If he was not so disagreeable on that night, he might still have a chance to win her heart and save her from Wickham. But as hard as he thought, he could not think of a way to tell her he was hasty in his judgment and his opinion had changed.

Even if there was not a chance for them to be together, he could not let her marry Wickham. He faced the choice of sharing a secret which was not his to tell, and watching Elizabeth wed a man Darcy knew would hurt her. The decision was a difficult one, but the risk of Elizabeth ruining her life was too great. He would need to be honest with her. Maybe if he did so, he could save her.

***

Elizabeth established a routine during her time at Hunsford, and it was therefore easy for Darcy to determine when she would be on her daily walk. Since this afforded them the time to speak previously, it seemed like the best time to approach her. He timed his appearance perfectly and encountered her as he stepped into the lane.

"Mr. Darcy," she said with a brief curtsy.

"Miss Bennet. Will you do me the courtesy of allowing me to walk with you? I am aware we did not part on good terms after our last walk."

"Of course," she replied. "Consider it forgotten, sir." Her natural curiosity ensured the previous conversation would not be forgotten; but she prepared herself to try to listen what he wanted to say. "Well, not entirely forgotten. The last time we spoke, you attempted to dissuade me from forming a connection with Mr. Wickham. You said he nearly ruined the life of someone close to you. Is there anything you can tell me about that situation without betraying the confidence of your friend?"

"It was not a friend. It was my sister, Georgiana."

Darcy went on to tell her the entire sordid story of Wickham's wooing of Georgiana. He did not leave out any details. He explained how his sister, because of her youth, had been so horribly deceived by Wickham and Mrs. Younge. As he spoke, he felt Elizabeth's eyes on him, and when he looked at her, he saw the astonishment on her face.

When he finished, Elizabeth felt warm anger coursing through her body. The tale he told was so fantastic, and so very much unlike the Mr. Wickham she knew, that she instantly disbelieved him. She opened her mouth to tell him so, and then snapped it shut again. She recalled Kitty's story about Mary and the cloak, and took a deep breath. If Darcy was lying, then he would out himself through conversation. If he told the truth, her questions should cause no consternation at all.

"What motive could cause Mr. Wickham to behave in such a way?" she asked in as level a voice as she could manage. Her voice trembled faintly, but, everything considered, she thought she managed sufficiently.

"Georgiana's dowry was, I am certain, the main inducement. The fact their marriage would wound me was also, I suspect, in Mr. Wickham's mind."

"I do not mean to be impertinent, sir--"

_Since when was that a concern?_ Darcy thought.

"--but if Mr. Wickham's motivation is financial, he has chosen very poorly indeed to connect himself with me."

"Yes, your connections are quite inferior to Georgiana's."

"Quite inferior? Sir, I am doing my best to remain a civil conversant, but I will not stand for your insults."

Darcy was silent for a moment. Had she just been insulted by the fact he agreed with her? He feared he would never fully understand Elizabeth Bennet.

"I apologize if you felt insulted."

"A weak apology, but one which I will accept."

Darcy resisted the urge to sigh in frustration. He could not imagine the offense she would take at that.

"In response to your question: is Mr. Wickham aware of what shall be settled upon you at marriage? You are the daughter of a gentleman. He might expect you will bring more into the union than is actually allotted."

"Well, there has been no occasion to discuss it, although our marriage settlements are far from a secret in Meryton. The most casual of inquiry would have informed him."

Darcy nodded. "Knowing the man as I do, I suspect he has made such inquiries." He was struck with a terrible idea. "Miss Bennet, has Mr. Wickham formally proposed to you?"

"Well, no, not in those words, although he made his intention quite clear. If you read the letter I received from him, you would not be in any doubt either," Elizabeth said, a bit defensively. There was part of her that sounded an alarm over the way Wickham handled himself, but she had been assiduously ignoring that feeling anytime it occurred.

"I am sorry to have to say something so base to a young lady of good breeding."

"I am relieved to hear my inferior breeding has been promoted to 'good,’” Elizabeth said drily.

Darcy chose not to rise to that particular comment. "It may be the case Mr. Wickham hopes to lure you into an engagement, and then take advantage of you, with no intention of following through."

Elizabeth's cheeks flushed red at the thought. "Mr. Darcy, you must think my morals quite inferior. Never before has my chastity been questioned."

"Nor do I question it now," he responded hastily. "But that does not mean Mr. Wickham has not questioned it, and made plans to test it."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest the story Mr. Darcy told was just too fantastical to be the truth, but that little voice she had been ignoring made itself known and laid out its argument persuasively. She thought of how often Mr. Wickham's flirting had been hardly proper--the way he spoke to her as if they were already engaged. His mention of not being able to live without her. The fact he sent her a letter through the post! Could these actions not be seen as a scoundrel testing the limits of what she would allow? Elizabeth closed her mouth again. She needed time to consider things.

"I cannot speak to who is telling the truth and who is lying," she said finally. "Your words give me pause to consider, where before I was certain. I will need to take time to consider what you have said."

Darcy bowed. "I am at your service, madam. If you have questions about anything I have told you, I am happy to entertain them."

Elizabeth was struck by the fact this conversation might allow her to make an inquiry for Jane. "Mr. Darcy, since we are being civil to one another, do you know the reason why Mr. Bingley quit Netherfield so suddenly? His absence hurt my sister more than he might have realized."

Darcy looked at her for a moment, trying to determine how honest to be. "Bingley left because he was convinced your sister did not have the depth of feeling he did."

"Not the depth of feeling? Why on Earth would he believe that to be true?"

"Well, that idea was presented with a large degree of vigor by sources very near to Bingley."

"It was his sisters, was it not?" Elizabeth cried. "I knew it was their doing."

Darcy nodded. "Certainly, they are the ones who advanced the idea."

She looked at him. "I feel you are not telling me something."

He sighed. "I did nothing to disabuse him from the idea. Had I wanted, I believe I could have successfully countered the advice he received from his sisters."

"And why did you not choose to do so? Do you not want your friend to be happy?"

Her cheeks flushed, and he could see her temper was barely under control.

"At the time, I agreed she did not hold him in the same regard that he held her."

"Did you believe she was after his money?"

"No. My concern was about the family he might be connecting himself with."

"Our family!" she said indignantly. She fell silent for a moment, remembering how her mother and her sisters behaved at the Netherfield Ball. As much as she was unwilling to admit it, she knew he had a point. However, Jane's amiable qualities more than compensated for the shortcomings of the Bennet family.

He looked her steadily in the eyes. "I assure you I understand the error of my ways. If the connection is strong enough, nothing external might damage it."

"It is convenient you did not arrive at this understanding until after Jane was jilted."

"She was not jilted. There was no formal connection between the two of them."

"But we all knew there might be, if you had not colluded to remove him!"

"There was also no collusion. Only my silence."

"Sometimes silence is collusion enough, Mr. Darcy," she said angrily.

"Miss Elizabeth, if I could go back to that moment I would say something. I was wrong."

"You were. I am glad to hear you admit it."

They walked silently for a few moments. As they walked, Elizabeth realized Mr. Darcy believed he was keeping her from making a mistake, and he had gone out of his way to do so. Despite what might have happened with Jane, she did have to admit he seemed to be trying to do the right thing in regards to the Wickham situation.

Elizabeth took a breath to steady herself and chewed her lip. "Thank you for the frankness with which you spoke to me today. Please do not consider me ungrateful. After I have had time to think this through, I will certainly inform you if there is anything else I need."

"I shall leave you to your thoughts, then. Good day." He turned quickly and walked back towards Rosings. Elizabeth stared at his back, more confused than ever.

Elizabeth headed back to Hunsford and sat down to write to Jane. According to the last letter she received, Jane was back at Longbourn. Jane's visit to London had not yielded any more answers to the question of Mr. Bingley's quick departure. Jane called on Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst once, but it was clear they had no desire to see her, and they pleaded another engagement almost as soon as she arrived. That was the closest Jane had gotten to Mr. Bingley. In her letters, she sounded wistful, but aware of the reality of the situation. Mr. Bingley was lost to her. All this pointed to the fact Mr. Darcy told her the truth.

Elizabeth spent a good portion of the letter assuring Jane as to the terribleness of Mr. Bingley's sisters, with frequent assurances of Jane's own goodness; however, she did not mention what Mr. Darcy told her. A letter was not the place for that. Elizabeth hoped her sister would meet another amiable man soon, and put thoughts of Bingley quite out of her mind.

Elizabeth was anxious to discuss the Wickham situation with Jane, but she did not dare to write all of it out in a letter--what if it was intercepted? Instead, she told Jane about her conversation with Darcy, mentioning her disbelief at the civility of the conversation. She also hinted she had a matter of "utmost personal concern" she hoped to speak with Jane about immediately upon her return to Longbourn.

Elizabeth's trip was planned to last for one more week, and she was grateful for the time to sort her feelings out before Mr. Wickham would expect an answer from her. She considered what Darcy told her. It seemed there were two possibilities: either Wickham was lying, or Darcy was. There was no way both of them could be telling the truth; their stories directly contradicted one another. So what did she know of the character of each of the men?

Wickham was witty and charming. Elizabeth spoke with him several times, and she had never detected any deceit in his voice. His stories sometimes seemed a bit exaggerated, but who did not enhance a story for the pleasure of the listeners? She recalled how he had been ready to defend her honor at the Netherfield Ball, and a smile touched her lips. However, since she had given the skeptical part of her mind a freer rein, she had to admit some of Wickham's actions came very close to impropriety, and had entered that territory on at least one occasion. Elizabeth wondered if a gentleman would be as forward with her as had Wickham.

That led her to consider Darcy. He was proud and aloof. Elizabeth could imagine Mr. Darcy coldly denying Wickham his living, although she knew well that just because something is imaginable does not make it true. Darcy did have a tendency to bluntness, as she saw during many of their conversations. He was uncomfortable talking about personal things. Elizabeth could not imagine him making up a story about his sister nearly being ruined just to spite Mr. Wickham; that story had been difficult for him to tell, and he did not seem the sort of man who would besmirch his sister's name in such a way.

Elizabeth rubbed her temples in frustration. She did not know who or what to believe. A week prior, she would have believed Mr. Wickham implicitly and based her evaluation of Mr. Darcy's story against the perceived truth of Mr. Wickham's. Now, she was much less certain. She would have spent the entire next week considering the merits of each recollection, had the letter from Jane not arrived the following day.


	18. Chapter 18

"Lizzy! You received a letter from Jane," Kitty called into Elizabeth's room.

Elizabeth was startled. She just received a letter from Jane two days prior. It was Jane's habit to compose a letter a week. Two in such a short period made her nervous. She took the envelope from Kitty and tore it open with much less grace than usual. As she scanned the letter, her eyes got wider. After a moment, tears began to roll down her cheeks.

"What is it?" Kitty said, wringing her hands. "Is it Father? Is someone unwell?"

"We are all unwell, but Lydia the most of us all. She has eloped with Mr. Wickham!"

After relaying the distressing news, Elizabeth fell into tears of shock, which turned to tears of grief and then of anger. She was not entirely surprised her impetuous younger sister would agree to such a plan, but to be thrown over by the man she thought about to propose to her--for her sister? Elizabeth could not decide which of them she was the most angry with. Either way, it was a dark stain on the name of Bennet, and would undoubtedly affect the sisters' marriage prospects.

_Well, this resolved the issue of whether Mr. Wickham is a scoundrel_, she thought, and laughed ruefully through her tears. It sounded as if Mr. Wickham was engaging in the same plot with Lydia that he had with Georgiana Darcy.

"I must return home at once. Mr. Collins must arrange for my immediate travel home. I shall find him this minute and ask him to do so."

Before Kitty had a chance to respond, Elizabeth was out the front door calling for her brother-in-law.

She heard no response from Mr. Collins, but Elizabeth was startled to see Mr. Darcy emerge from the lawn of Rosings.

"Miss Elizabeth, are you unwell? I believe I saw Mr. Collins headed for the church a quarter of an hour ago. Is there something with which I can assist you?"

He strode to her side quickly and seemed on guard to catch her if she swooned.

Elizabeth looked at him for a moment. Ought she to share what happened with him? Her first inclination was to hide the shame of the elopement from him, but who else in the world had also been a victim of Mr. Wickham's plots? Mr. Darcy might know, better than anyone, where Mr. Wickham and Lydia might have gone.

Before she knew the decision was made, the story came tumbling out of her, and the tears began anew. Elizabeth hid her face, embarrassed at both her outburst of emotion and of the behavior of her sister.

"My apologies, Mr. Darcy, for burdening you with this."

"I am not unduly burdened, Miss Elizabeth," he said, handing her a handkerchief.

Elizabeth took it and did her best to comport herself. By that time, Kitty was outside, carrying a cloak for Elizabeth.

"You shall catch your death of the cold, and then we shall have two tragedies." She reddened as she saw Mr. Darcy standing next to Elizabeth. Kitty curtsied clumsily. "Good day, Mr. Darcy."

"It appears it is not, Mrs. Collins." Then, to Elizabeth, "I will leave you to the capable care of your sister. There is something to which I must attend." With a bow, he turned and returned to Rosings.

Kitty escorted Elizabeth back to the parsonage.

"You did not tell him, did you, Lizzy?" asked Kitty.

"I did," Elizabeth said, weakly. "I told him all."

Kitty's eyes widened, but she refrained from chastising her sister. "A cup of tea is what you need." She entered the house with a call for tea to be brought to them.

When the tea arrived, Elizabeth accepted a cup, allowing it to warm her chilled hands. She breathed in the steam and felt herself return to her rational mind. There was no time for any foolishness such as she exhibited outside; their mother was surely behaving foolishly enough for the entire family, and that was to say nothing of the degree of imprudence Lydia displayed. Elizabeth must retain her wits if she was to assist her family.

There was the sound of hooves outside, and Elizabeth looked out the window to see Mr. Darcy racing by on horseback.

"Well," she said hopelessly, "I suppose that answers the question of Mr. Darcy's response to our predicament. He could not get away quickly enough." She thought of one of his statements: "I am not unduly burdened." Certainly not, as his quick escape from Rosings indicated.

"Do you think he will gossip about our situation?" asked Kitty.

"I do not believe so. I was not the only one who shared a confidence during our conversations. He told me something he would rather not be made known."

Kitty nodded, and Elizabeth was struck once again by how much her sister matured since her marriage. The Kitty that lived at Longbourn would have wheedled and begged for the story until Elizabeth went mad.

"That does soothe me."

"There shall be no soothing for me. I must get back to Longbourn. Would you be so kind as to retrieve Mr. Collins from the church? I shall pack my clothes.

Kitty left to fetch her husband, and Elizabeth collected her belongings. Mr. Collins was shocked at the idea of Lydia's behavior, although he was also secretly pleased he chose the sister he did. He was all too happy to arrange travel for Elizabeth, and she was soon on the road back home. She did not know what help she might provide, but nonetheless, she needed to be with her family during this trying time.

***

Upon her arrival home, Elizabeth found her mother in bed, lamenting how life could be so terrible as to do such a thing to her dearest, her favorite, her baby Lydia.

"Who knows what that horrible Mr. Wickham did to her to compel her to leave home! Oh, I cannot imagine. I feel faint again," and with that, Mrs. Bennet lapsed into a swoon that at least provided her daughters with a moment's reprieve from her wailing. However, it was only a moment, and her eyes sprung open again and turned to Elizabeth. "Lizzy! Why did you bring such a horrible man into Lydia's life? I am certain she never would have done this if it was not for your poor example."

Elizabeth knew better than to take real offense; when she was vexed (which was most of the time), their mother said things she did not necessarily mean. Elizabeth was aware enough to realize the elopement was not her fault; being thoroughly taken in by Mr. Wickham's stories, however, left an angry bruise on her pride. How could she have been so trusting, so foolish?

"I know that look, Lizzy," Jane whispered to her. "This was none of your doing; do not listen to Mama. How could you have known his true character?"

"How could I not?" Elizabeth. "I had my doubts, but I did not take them seriously, and now see what has happened. To think I thought he proposed to me!"

Jane's eyes widened. "He proposed to you? How? When?"

It was then Elizabeth remembered she had not told Jane about the letter Wickham sent to Hunsford. She pulled her sister out of their mother's room and away from Mrs. Bennet's keen ears.

"He sent me a letter at Hunsford telling me he had to speak with me about an important matter immediately upon my return."

"He sent a letter? No wonder you suspected it to be a marriage proposal. What a very forward thing to do."

"There is more, Jane. So much more."

"About Mr. Wickham? What did you discover?"

"I do not think Mr. Wickham told me the truth in regards to Mr. Darcy. In fact, I believe I judged Mr. Darcy too harshly. He told me a story about Wickham which I cannot repeat, as I do not wish to cause harm to the story's subject. But Mr. Darcy was engaging during my trip to Hunsford--do not give me that look, Jane, I am aware how it sounds. But it seemed as if he was concerned Mr. Wickham might cause me pain. I really do believe Mr. Darcy was acting with my best interest in mind."

"I am shocked to hear you talk so of Mr. Darcy, but I cannot focus on anything due to my worry for Lydia. Did Mr. Darcy give you any indication whatsoever Mr. Wickham was capable of something like this?"

"Indeed he did," Elizabeth said gravely. "In fact, this seems to be a pattern for Mr. Wickham."

"Do you think they will marry?"

"I think Lydia believes she and Wickham are to marry. As to whether he will follow through, I doubt it. From what Mr. Darcy told me, Mr. Wickham is on the hunt for a wife with a sizable dowry."

"That disqualifies Lydia."

"And me," said Elizabeth.

"What might Mr. Wickham's intentions be, if he is not inclined to marry her?"

"Ruination. We will all be ruined. I want to be upset with Lydia because of what she had done, but I know the blame falls firmly on Mr. Wickham."

"So you believe he means to take advantage of her! Oh, Lizzy, how terrible."

"At this point, a marriage to the rogue is the best outcome we can hope for. However, I am unsure how our father might compel Mr. Wickham, even if he succeeds in locating them. Papa does not have the funds at his disposal, I am certain, to please Mr. Wickham."

"All we can do is pray."

A bellow from the bedroom announced their mother required their presence.

"Well, pray and ensure Mama does not yell the house down," Jane said with a smile. "Come, Lizzy. Let us see what she requires."


	19. Chapter 19

Darcy regretted the fact he had left Rosings with such little notice. He would have liked to tell Elizabeth his plans, but he did not wish to raise her hopes until he knew if he could deliver. If Wickham's main goal was to wed Lydia, they would be on the road to Gretna Green. Darcy suspected, however, that Wickham had no intention whatsoever of marrying Lydia Bennet. Luckily, he still recalled some of Wickham's old haunts. Perhaps that would send him in the right direction.

Darcy had another stroke of luck. As he walked through a neighborhood he knew Wickham had once spent time in, he encountered one of Wickham's former associates. Loyalty to his friend was not nearly as important as coin, and the man had soon given Darcy a good idea of exactly where to find Wickham and Lydia. Darcy hoped his information was true as he stepped up to the door; London was a large city, and a man with more sense than Wickham might hide very effectively indeed.

Darcy had to work to keep his lips from forming in a sneer when Lydia Bennet threw open the door in response to his knock.

"Lord, Wickham, it is Mr. Darcy!"

Wickham stepped into view behind Lydia and gave Darcy a smug smile.

"Why, it is indeed, my dear."

"Well, come in It has been so boring here, Mr. Darcy. I do not know why we must stay in London. _I_ thought we were going to Scotland, but here we have stayed, in this dingy flat." She cast a baleful look towards Wickham.

"I told you, dearest, I have business I need to finish prior to our departure."

"Lying to your beloved already, Wickham? That is low, even for you."

"He is not lying, are you, Wickham? You would not lie to me."

"And why do you believe that? This man appeared to be in love with your sister Elizabeth a few short weeks ago. What makes you believe he would not deceive you?"

"Oh, that was very unfortunate. I do hope Lizzy does not take it too badly. But it could not be helped. Once Wickham and I got to know one another, he realized it was me, not Lizzy, whom he loves. You must not blame him, and neither must she! For who can stand in the way of true love?"

Darcy only just managed to refrain from rolling his eyes. He shot a sideways glance at Wickham, who was edging towards the back door.

"Would you leave her alone with a stranger? Not that I should be surprised."

"I was merely planning to offer you a drink." Wickham indicated a bottle on the table. "But if you have no interest in my hospitality, Darcy, I shall save it for myself."

"Always the gentleman, Wickham."

"Pardon me if I do not possess the graces of someone like you! Not everyone was born with your advantages."

"But you were born with more advantages than most, which you chose to squander."

"Mr. Darcy, I think you insult me," said Lydia. "I do not think marriage to me is squandering anything."

Darcy considered what it would be like to be married to Lydia Bennet; it would not be a joyful existence for him, and he suspected neither would it be for Wickham.

"I apologize if my words caused you offense, Miss Bennet. None was intended."

"I accept your apology. I always believed you to be a gentleman, regardless of what Lizzy might have said."

Darcy winced a bit at the thought of Elizabeth disparaging his manners, but then focused himself on the task in front of him. He glanced around the room and discovered it contained a single rumpled bed. What he feared had come to pass.

"Miss Bennet, would you be so kind as to tell me why, if the two of you love one another so much, you chose to sneak away and to marry far away from your family? Do you not think they would like to view your nuptials?"

"That was Wickham's idea." Lydia tossed a dimpled smile at her fiancé. "He knew how hurt Lizzy would be, and he said it would be a much more gracious thing for us to celebrate in private, so she did not have to suffer through a long engagement. It will be easier on her if we are married before she discovers what has happened. Then she can begin to work on forgetting Mr. Wickham as a potential husband, and rather seeing him as her brother." Lydia leaned in close to Mr. Darcy, as if she was telling him a secret. "Lizzy always had greater hopes for the relationship than Wickham gave any encouragement to. I did not realize until he told me, but my sister pursued him quite shamefully!"

"Indeed?" said Darcy, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

"Oh, yes! You should have seen her making a fool of herself over him. I was quite embarrassed for her."

"I cannot imagine."

"It was a spectacle. Lucky for me, my Wickham knew what he wanted, and he pursued it."

"Yes, that much is clear." Darcy glanced once again at the unmade bed. "And he appears to have won."

"He has! So you see, Lizzy will understand eventually. But we are doing her a favor by not forcing her to endure our wedding preparations. Our decision to elope was really quite selfless."

"And what of you, Wickham? Is this all as you remember? Did Miss Elizabeth Bennet pursue you relentlessly until she went to Kent and you were finally able to court the sister you intended?"

"That Cambridge education is certainly impressive. I do not know that I could have summed things up so well."

Darcy did not bother to mention Wickham had the same opportunity for a Cambridge education, even if he did spent most of his time in the pubs rather than with his studies.

"How very selfless of the two of you to consider Miss Elizabeth's feelings. I feel you should be rewarded for such goodness. Please, Miss Bennet, let me make you a gift of a fine new bonnet as a wedding gift."

"Oh, how lovely!" Lydia clapped her hands. "Do you mean it, Mr. Darcy?"

"Indeed I do. Perhaps while you are choosing the bonnet you want, Mr. Wickham and I will have some time to renew our acquaintance. We have much to discuss, and I am hoping this matter might be resolved in a way that is beneficial to all of us."

"If you are to be reasonable," Wickham said smoothly, "I will hear what you have to say. Provided, of course, you neither say nor do anything that might upset my intended."

Darcy did not rise to the implied challenge; if he was to resolve this situation, he would have to do his best to work with Wickham. Knowing that did not make it any easier, though. He clenched his jaw and escorted Lydia and Wickham to the milliners'.

***

"Oh, this one is my favorite!" cried Lydia rapturously. "No, wait, perhaps this one is. Would it be possible," she inquired to the milliner, "for the trimming on this bonnet to be put on the other one? Price is no concern."

Darcy almost felt sorry for Wickham; Lydia would be an acquisitive wife. But this mess was quite of Wickham's own making, and Darcy would waste no sympathy on such a man.

"Let us step outside," he said to Wickham.

They did, and then just stared at one another for a moment. There was so much animosity built up over the years Darcy doubted whether they would be able to speak courteously to one another. He took a deep breath and reminded himself he was doing what was best for Elizabeth.

"Do you think she suspects you have no intention of marrying her?"

"I would not say I have no intention. It would be more correct to say I require the proper inducement to make her my wife."

"And what do you consider the proper amount to compel you to do the right thing?"

“Fifteen thousand pounds would provide an adequate compulsion, I would think."

"For fifteen thousand, I would expect you to marry a scullery maid."

Wickham looked at the doors of the milliners'. "Have you listened to Lydia? A scullery maid might be preferable."

"This is a mess quite of your own making, Wickham."

"Indeed it is, Darcy, which raises the question: why are you so interested in the reputation of a country gentleman's daughter? Is it your plan to interrupt any nuptial plans I make, just on principle?”

"Do not behave as if you ever intended to marry Miss Lydia Bennet. At least do me that courtesy."

"Perhaps I did. She was easier to win than her older sister. Elizabeth was nothing but work, work, work. I could no longer bear it."

Darcy took a step closer to Wickham and drew himself to his full height. "I will thank you not to refer to the lady in such familiar terms."

Wickham laughed and gracefully took a step back. "Oh, now all is clear. Perhaps we both have an interest in a Miss Bennet?"

"My motivations are no concern of yours."

"All that concerns me is your money. Although you must like Miss Elizabeth quite a bit to come looking for Lydia like this."

"What ought to concern you is the fact fifteen thousand is an unreasonable amount. I might be more amenable to paying a sum such as five thousand.”

"And for that amount, my bride would need to be several degrees more reasonable."

"We could go back and forth all day to wind up somewhere near ten thousand, or we could just agree on the amount now. Why not save ourselves the trouble?"

"That is what I like about you, Darcy. You dislike all forms of dancing, whether with an agreeable young lady or around a topic."

"I am simply astute in understanding my partners."

"Ought we to shake on it?"

"Would you respect the implied contract of the handshake?"

"One never knows. I never did understand how a simple handshake compels anyone to do anything."

"Then let us skip the nicety, Wickham, if it means nothing to you."

"It does not matter to me either way. If you wish to shake hands, I am happy to include that in our deal for no additional outlay of capital."

"I look forward to when this is over and I am no longer forced to interact with you."

"Who is forcing you? Oh, Darcy, is that silly conscience of yours acting up again? You know, that really does get in the way of you having any fun."

Darcy was saved from responding when the door of the milliners' flew open and Lydia stuck her head out.

"I cannot decide which one I prefer," she said with a pout. "Wickham, do come and tell me which you prefer."

"You look stunning in anything, my dear. How could I possible choose?"

"Well, if you are to be of no help, then how will I decide? Mr. Darcy! You are a gentleman. Which do you believe is lovelier?"

Darcy found his wallet instead of answering her question, and with two bonnets securely packed, the trio left the shop.

***

Darcy arranged (and paid for) everything for Lydia and Wickham's wedding. He paid for a special license so they did not need to wait for the banns to be read, he made sure the couple had proper attire for the day, and he went so far as to stand as witness to their ceremony. None of this was easy for him, but he reminded himself he was doing it for Elizabeth. He was doing what she would have wanted.

The ceremony was quick, and Darcy managed to avoid throwing a wedding breakfast by sending the newlyweds immediately on a holiday to visit her parents. He suspected Mr. and Mrs. Darcy would be relieved to actually see that the marriage had occurred, rather than just hearing via letter.

"Please do not mention my involvement in your wedding. There is no reason to discuss it."

"It shall be our secret," Lydia whispered with a smile.

Darcy successfully resisted the urge to shudder. He had no desire to share any secrets with Lydia Wickham.

He saw the couple on their way, and then returned to his town house. He had much to accomplish before he returned to Hertfordshire.

***

"Darcy! Good to see you, man!" Bingley called when Darcy called the following day. "I did not know you were back from Rosings. How was the visit with your aunt?"

"She is much as she has always been. But Bingley, please sit. The reason for my visit is not purely social. I did you a grave disservice, and I must do what I can to make amends."

Bingley's eyes grew wider and wider as Darcy explained what had happened with Jane.

"I saw what was happening, and I did not move to stop it," Darcy finished. "I know now I should not have been complicit in removing you from a young lady of whom you were fond."

"It is kind of you to apologize, Darcy, but it is not necessary. My sisters may have convinced me to return to town, but the decision to leave was ultimately mine. I knew, even if I did not want to admit it, that they were not necessarily considering what would be of the greatest benefit to me."

"If Miss Bennet was still free, would you desire another chance with her?"

"Oh, most certainly, and I would strive to ensure I fulfilled her needs and listened to her counsel above all others. But is she still free?"

"As far as I am aware, she is. In fact, she was recently in London herself."

"And she did not call? No, of course she did not, after the shameful way I treated her."

"Indeed she did, and she was received by your sisters. She wrote to Miss Elizabeth that the visit was a short one."

"And they did not inform me of her visit," Bingley said, shaking his head. "I knew they had strong opinions, but I never thought they would undermine me so thoroughly."

"So now you know, what will your next course of action be?"

"I shall return to Netherfield as soon as I am able and ask Miss Bennet to be my wife."

"Perhaps you would like some company on your trip?"

"I could not ask it of you. I know what a trial you find Hertfordshire to be."

"I maybe have been too hasty. I think I misjudged the place, and some of its inhabitants."

"Now, this is interesting. Are you going to tell me of whom you speak?"

"I will tell you it is a lady, but I will speak no further until I am certain whether she returns my affections."

"A wise decision, if much less fun for me," Bingley said with a smile. "I do have plenty of my own to think about, though, so it shall not pain me too much to not share in your confidence."

"If things go as I wish them to, you shall not wonder for long."

"This sounds serious, Darcy!"

"It feels that way as well."

"So we should leave soon."

"Yes, I believe that is our best course."

And with that, the men made arrangements to be on the way to Hertfordshire as quickly as possible.

***

Darcy had plenty of time to think on the trip. He opted to ride on horseback for much of the time. The fresh air and exercise did him well, and his thoughts were not often interrupted.

He loved Elizabeth Bennet. Prior to Lydia's elopement, his major concern had been Wickham. Now, with Wickham and Lydia married, that impediment was well and truly gone. However, that did not mean Elizabeth would fall into Darcy's arms. Their relationship had been quite contentious until the day at Rosings when her demeanor had softened. He still did not know what caused the change in her behavior, but he was grateful.

There was a world of distance, however, between Elizabeth not loathing him and Elizabeth returning his feelings with a strength that mirrored his own. Darcy had spoken to Bingley with a degree of hubris, but when he realistically considered the situation, he feared what Elizabeth might say if he proposed to her. He could see her eyes flare with indignation, and that made him want her all the more. She was truly a magnificent woman, and a large part of that was the fact she knew (and spoke) her mind.

Darcy recalled the dinner at Rosings, where his aunt had presented her views on the presence of wit in a young woman. Elizabeth had not responded, but Darcy recalled the humor in her eyes as she looked at Lady Catherine. He had no doubt Elizabeth could have verbally decimated the woman if she had chosen to, but she instead just observed.

_If we were to marry, there would be many more opportunities for her to unleash her tongue on Lady Catherine_, he thought, feeling a combination of delight and horror at the idea. Few people stood up to his aunt, but he believed Elizabeth would be more than fit for the task.


	20. Chapter 20

Mrs. Bennet was being attended by her daughters when a servant slipped into the room.

"Not meaning to bother you, ma'am, but a carriage just arrived, and it appears to be Miss Lydia."

"Lydia!" said Mrs. Bennet, sitting straight up. "Has Mr. Bennet been informed?"

Mr. Bennet returned from his search the previous day, with no more answers than he left with.

"No ma'am, I thought to tell you first. Also, there is a young man with her."

The servant glanced at Elizabeth, who had a suspicion who that young man might be.

"Yes, you did well. Mary, go tell your father. Jane and Lizzy, fetch me that dress on the chair over there and help me up."

Her daughters did as they were bidden. Elizabeth's curiosity about what happened was burning her up, but she knew they would receive no peace until her mother was satisfied.

Mrs. Bennet dressed and then flew down the stairs at a dangerous pace for someone who spent the previous days weeping in bed. Lydia was stepping through the door by that time, a serene smile on her face.

"Mama and my sisters! I am a married woman. Is my husband not the most handsome?"

With that, Mr. Wickham followed her through the door. He bowed deeply. "Ladies," he said in a calm voice.

Elizabeth resisted the urge to slap him.

Mrs. Bennet resisted her urge with much less success. "You are married! Married! My Lydia married! Oh, how very fortunate. My two youngest daughters settled so well!" She caught Lydia in an embrace. "I always knew you would never do anything untoward, Lydia, dear! And Mr. Wickham! Welcome to the family!"

Wickham smiled. "My apologies, madam, that you were unable to attend the wedding. We wished for a small affair. I could not wait to make Lydia my wife."

Jane looked at Elizabeth to watch her reaction to this statement. Elizabeth kept her face perfectly still, not wishing to betray what she felt.

By this time, Mr. Bennet came out of his study.

"I see Lydia has returned a married woman," he noted.

"She has! Oh, is it not wonderful?" said Mrs. Bennet.

Mr. Bennet also glanced at Elizabeth, who would not allow herself to meet his eyes.

"Things could be worse. If you will excuse me, I was at my books and I must return. Welcome to the family, Mr. Wickham."

As he shuffled away, Mr. Bennet muttered something under his breath. Only Elizabeth was close enough to hear him. It sounded like, “…and good luck."

"Such a lovely ceremony! My Wickham looked ever so handsome, all dressed in his regimental. It reminded me of why I fell in love with him in the first place."

"And when was that?" Elizabeth maintained her countenance for as long as she could, and could no longer bite her tongue.

"One day I just looked at him and I knew," Lydia said, fluttering her eyelashes at Lizzy. "Do you like my bonnet, Lizzy? It was a present from... oh, but I promised I would not say. Is it not lovely?"

Elizabeth had no interest at all in who purchased a bonnet for Lydia. Deep down, she knew she was relieved to not be required to respond to a marriage proposal from Mr. Wickham. That did not change the fact her pride was injured at being thrown over for her own sister--and Lydia, at that!

"I wish you both much happiness. Now, if you will excuse me, I told Papa I would help him with his books."

Elizabeth hurried off to the study, where she would be safe.

Mr. Bennet did not seem surprised to at her arrival.

"Hello, Lizzy."

"Hello, Papa." She threw herself into her favorite chair in his study and tucked her legs underneath her.

"Do you need to talk?"

"I do not. I just cannot be out there."

"If this is his character, he did you a favor," Mr. Bennet said.

"I know that, but did he have to do me a favor with my sister?" Elizabeth responded. "I shall have to see him for the rest of my life."

"It does seem particularly cruel. However, what else can be expected from a man of such loose morals?"

"I know I ought to be worried for Lydia, being married to such a blackguard."

"I believe Lydia can handle him," Mr. Bennet responded mildly. "The question that weighs on my mind is, what inducement compelled Mr. Wickham to marry her? We can assume he would not do so for a small amount; dear heavens, no one would marry Lydia for less than £5000. Was it your uncle? If so, how shall I ever repay him?"

"If Uncle found them, do you not think he would have written?"

"It seems so, but who else could have interceded?"

Elizabeth could not form an answer to this. It must have been Mr. Gardiner. No one else would have such an interest in the collective reputation of the Bennet family.

"I do not know how I will repay him," Mr. Bennet said with a sigh. "And all this for the reward of that perfidious Mr. Wickham as my son-in-law. Lizzy, I know how much this must hurt you."

"I am not hurt he and Lydia married. I am ashamed I let myself be so taken in by his lies. Do you know, Papa, that I actually thought he was going to propose to me? How could I have been so foolish?"

He took her hand. "Lizzy, do not chastise yourself. Anyone who saw the two of you together believed he was going to make you an offer. It is not your fault he is not who we believed him to be. How were any of us to know?"

This statement brought tears to her eyes. "I was warned," she whispered.

Her father raised his head at that statement. "You were? By whom?"

"I cannot betray that confidence, Papa, but I can say I am far from the first person who has been fooled by Mr. Wickham. I only wish I might have used that knowledge to help Lydia before it was too late. I should have returned home immediately upon learning it."

"Ah, so you received this information at Hunsford."

Elizabeth blushed; it was unlike her to be so careless in revealing a secret. "Please, Papa, I beg you not to ask me. Please understand I have a good reason for my silence."

"I shall devil you about it no more, Lizzy. Regardless of what you might have known, there is no way you could have predicted Lydia would make such a foolish decision. None of us could, and I consider myself to be a consummate expert on Lydia's foolishness."

Elizabeth managed a weak smile. She and her father sat for several more minutes in companionable silence before Elizabeth announced her need for a walk. Her father agreed the fresh air would do her well, and she slipped out the back door before she could be forced to be sociable to the horrid Mr. Wickham.

***

Elizabeth's mind was far from at ease, but neither was it as troubled as it had been since she learned of Lydia's and Wickham's disappearance. However, her mind was pre-disposed to worry about something. She had so long been considering Mr. Wickham's intentions it felt strange not to be mulling something over. Nature abhors a vacuum, and her mind quickly found something new to worry itself about.

She saw a different side of Mr. Darcy during her time in Kent. She understood how very difficult it must have been for him to share his sister's story, especially to someone of whom he had been so clear in his dislike. However, when she considered his quick retreat from Rosings after hearing what happened with Lydia, Elizabeth was less favorably disposed towards him. It had been ungallant to make it quite so obvious he left due to her situation, and bizarre as well--was it just he did not care to associate himself with someone whose sister behaved so shamefully? Although it was indeed embarrassing, Elizabeth would have thought Mr. Darcy, whose young sister was also nearly seduced by Wickham, would have been more understanding of the situation.

She tried to place Darcy from her thoughts entirely, but her mind was determined not to cooperate. She remembered his deep bow as he declared himself to be at her service, and the way he immediately comforted her after she had received the letter about Lydia's elopement. She was alarmed to find herself thinking of him less as an arrogant, hateful man, and more as a reserved but principled man whose infrequency in smiling made the expression all the more endearing when he finally succumbed to it. Her mind wove a situation where they interacted simply as a man and a woman; a situation without the concerns that plagued their previous conversations. She imagined dancing with him, her hand in his, and she felt a strange but not at all unpleasant sensation run down her spine.

Elizabeth shook her head hard, as if to forcibly clear these thoughts. It would not do to think of Mr. Darcy in this way. Even if he was predisposed to consider her in this way--which he was not, and which she did not wish him to be--he would no longer want a connection with her now he knew Lydia's shame. If only she had not told him what had happened, it would be much easier to face him in the future.

None of this mattered whatsoever, though. With Mr. Bingley gone, Elizabeth had very little connection to Mr. Darcy. Their paths might cross at some point in the future when she was at Hunsford and he at Rosings, but that was unlikely. Chances were excellent she would never see him again.

Elizabeth noticed with disapproval how her heart sank at this idea. If only she had known how very soon she would see him again.


	21. Chapter 21

The trip to Netherfield was pleasantly uneventful, and Bingley was clearly in fine spirits as he walked through the house, inspecting everything as if for the first time.

"This is, indeed, a wonderful house. Quite so. I am ashamed at how quickly I was drawn away."

Darcy suspected Bingley was not actually speaking of the house.

"Well, now you have returned, and you do not need to leave again until you, yourself, decide to."

"True, although certain situations would more incline me to make my stay a long one. Ought we to visit Longbourn today, do you think, or should we wait?"

Darcy smiled. "The decision is yours. I suggest you practice making your own decisions. Your sisters will be ill-tempered with such a thing, but it must be done."

"I cannot wait! Let us go now. I shall think of what to say on the ride over."

Darcy nodded. He was unsure if that was the most sensible course, but after telling Bingley to make his own decision, Darcy could not bear to criticize. The men made a quick change of clothing and then they were on their way.

***

Elizabeth curled up next to a window, enjoying the sunshine on her face and reading a novel, when she saw movement outside and looked up. What she saw startled her out of her chair. She glanced over at her mother, but knew she needed to inform Jane first.

"Jane! Jane, where are you?"

"I am upstairs."

Elizabeth hurried up the stairs.

"I do not mean to alarm you, but there is little time. Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy are riding towards us at this very moment."

All the color drained out of Jane's face.

"But what can they want?" she whispered. "He made it quite clear he has no use for me."

"Do not judge before you have heard what he has to say," Elizabeth's quiet exterior hidthe fluttering in her stomach over seeing Mr. Darcy. Had Mr. Darcy told Mr. Bingley of Lydia's shame? If so, what purpose had they at Longbourn? Regardless of whether the Bennets were shamed, Elizabeth did not believe either man would come to rejoice in such sorrow.

The color came back into Jane's cheeks, and brought along a lovely flush.

"How do I look, Lizzy?" she asked.

Elizabeth laughed. "Beautiful as always, and any man who does not realize that is truly a fool."

They heard the door open, and then close. Footsteps, and then Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley were announced in the sitting room. There were murmured words, and then their mother called up the stairs.

"Jane! Come down this instant! We have visitors."

Elizabeth followed her sister, in spite of the fact she had not been invited. She had no intention of missing what was to happen next.

The girls stepped into the sitting room, and Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy both made deep bows. Jane and Elizabeth responded with curtsies. Mr. Darcy stared directly at Elizabeth, and she let herself hold his gaze. She saw no disapproval in his eyes and her heart dared to hope.

"We are so very glad for your visit," said Mrs. Bennet. "It has been ever so long since we have seen you, Mr. Bingley."

"Yes, I was called away to London very urgently," he responded.

"How lovely you have returned. Do you plan to stay for long?"

"I hope to," said Bingley.

"How wonderful. My Jane looks well, does she not?"

Jane dropped her eyes and blushed at her mother's forwardness. Mr. Bingley did not seem to mind.

"Indeed she does. Even lovelier than when I last beheld her, if that is possible."

"Will you stay for tea?" Mrs. Bennet pressed.

"Tea?" Bingley looked startled. "Oh, no, we could not impose. We did not want to intrude, only to stop by to let you know we will be staying at Netherfield. Thank you for your courtesy. Good day, ladies."

Bingley bowed again and rushed out of the room. Darcy moved his eyes from Elizabeth for the first time, and turned to see his friend going out the door.

"Mrs. Bennet. Ladies," he said, and hurried after Bingley.

"How strange! For them to travel all the way here for such a short visit. Although it was very good of Mr. Bingley to let us know he has returned, was it not? And he seemed well pleased with you, Jane. Not like that dreadful Mr. Darcy, who could not spare so much as a glance for Jane." Mrs. Bennet shook her head at the audacity.

Elizabeth was relieved her mother did not notice where Mr. Darcy's gaze had been directed. She did not know that she could properly answer questions about Mr. Darcy, especially from a questioner as persistent as her mother.

Mrs. Bennet and her daughters, including Mary, who quietly observed from the corner, stared at one another for a moment, trying to determine what to do next.

"Well, since we are all here, and none of us are at a task, perhaps some embroidery?"

No one seemed willing to return to what she had been doing before the intrusion, so the Bennet girls agreed embroidery seemed as acceptable a task as any. They settled around the sitting room, each with her own project. The air in the room was still, as if everyone waited for something to happen.

The wait was not long. Within a half an hour, there was a knock on the front door, and Mr. Bingley was ushered, once again, into the sitting room.

Bingley looked noticeably nervous. Elizabeth fancied she could see him trembling, just a bit. But when he spoke, his voice was strong.

"Mrs. Bennet, I wondered if I might speak with Miss Bennet for a moment?"

"With Jane? Why, yes, of course, certainly! Come, girls, for I am in need of your assistance... in the other room. Hurry, now, hurry!"

Their mother rushed them out of the room, closed the door, and did not move a step further. She pressed her ear against the door. Elizabeth would have normally refused to participate in such spying, but she was almost as excited as Mrs. Bennet about what might be happening in the sitting room.

"I cannot hear what they are saying!" Mrs. Bennet whispered. "Oh, why did we not exit the door closest to them?"

Elizabeth smiled. Jane knew their mother well enough to move the conversation as far from the door as possible. Fortunately for their curiosity, they did not need to wait long. After only a few minutes, Mr. Bingley opened the door and showed them a dazzling smile. The Bennet women rushed into the room to find Jane with tears on her cheeks and a smile just as large as Mr. Bingley's on her face.

"We are to be wed," she said, and her eyes welled up with tears once again.

"Please excuse me, ladies," Mr. Bingley said. "I must speak to Mr. Bennet right away."

He hurried off and Mrs. Bennet, Elizabeth, and Mary huddled around Jane, hugging her and wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"It is a miracle," said Jane.

"He came to his senses," said Elizabeth, with a smile. "And why should he not? You are a prize, Jane, just as I always told you."

"Oh, Lizzy. Mary. If only I could see the two of you as happy as I am."

"It is enough to share in your happiness," Mary said. Even she wore a bright smile for the occasion.

They all embraced once again, and stayed that way until Mr. Bennet and Mr. Bingley walked through the door to join in the celebration.

***

"Oh, Darcy, you ought to have come back with me!" Bingley said, unable to sit still. "What a joyous occasion."

"I am certain of it, but I would have been superfluous at best, and unwanted at worst. It is best that I returned to Netherfield."

"They were all so very agreeable. What a lovely family I am to join!"

Darcy was unsure he agreed with that statement, but he smiled for his friend's sake.

"I knew she was not lost to you."

"But Darcy, this is all thanks to you. If you had not spoken to me about Jane..."

"If I had not allowed your sisters to convince you away, I should never have had to convince you to come back. I appreciate your thanks, but I will not accept them. I was only correcting an error on my part."

"Let us not talk of who is at fault. All I want is to plan for our future."

"When have you set the wedding?"

"As soon as the banns are read. We do not want to wait to begin our lives together."

"And when will you tell your sisters?"

"I will write to them immediately. They may come when they wish, as long as they are here prior to the wedding."

Darcy suspected Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst would arrive as close to the ceremony as possible. He dearly wished he could be in the room to watch the sisters' reactions to the news that Bingley and Miss Bennet were to be wed. He believed some very unladylike language might be used.

***

Mr. Darcy was quite incorrect in his suspected timing. Miss Bingley and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst arrived within days of Bingley dispatching the letter.

Caroline Bingley's first words by way of welcome were, "Charles, you cannot be serious about marrying this country girl."

A steely look came into Bingley's eyes. Darcy did not believe he had ever seen his friend look so resolved.

"I am serious, Caroline. I asked her, and she accepted. You are not required to be happy about the situation, but you will not behave in a way that is disrespectful or rude towards Miss Bennet--or towards any member of her family, for that matter."

Caroline threw herself dramatically into a chair. "Listen to how you are speaking to me! Look what she has done to you!"

"Did I not make myself clear? I am honor-bound to support you until your marriage, but that does not mean I must tolerate any rudeness. I have no concern about setting you up in your own household--a modest one, to be sure, but one that will suit your needs--and about cutting your allowance. I will no longer allow you to interfere in my happiness for your own ends."

Miss Bingley and the Hursts stared, open-mouthed, at Bingley. As far as Darcy knew, he had never spoken that way to anyone in the family. Darcy silently applauded Bingley for taking such a firm stand.

"Well," Bingley said, with the light coming back into his eyes and a smile returning to his lips, "with that unpleasantry resolved, I am certain you will be delighted to hear Miss Bennet will be joining us for dinner. I extended the invitation to Miss Elizabeth, as well. It will be an exemplary opportunity to practice what we just spoke of."

Caroline Bingley narrowed her eyes at her brother, but did not speak.

"You made yourself clear, Brother," Mrs. Hurst said. "Now, please pardon us. We need to rest before the... festivities of this evening."

With that, the three of them retired to their rooms. As soon as they had left the entrance hall, Bingley's hands began to shake.

"I cannot believe I spoke to my sisters in that way."

"Come now, Bingley." Darcy laid a hand on the other man's shoulder. "You said what needed to be said, and I will not have you regretting it. You stood up for your fiancée, and that is how it should be. She is, perhaps, the only person who is blameless in this situation."

Darcy was relieved he sounded much more confident than he felt. His trepidation about seeing Elizabeth Bennet again was intense. However, when Bingley had proposed inviting Elizabeth and Mary Bennet to make Jane more comfortable, Darcy could hardly disagree. When Jane had written that Mary would not be able to attend, Darcy had hoped Elizabeth would also have previous plans, but it was not to be. Elizabeth would be attending with her sister, and Darcy was at a loss as to how he would make it through what was bound to be a very uncomfortable dinner for nearly everyone involved.

***

Elizabeth was, if anything, more nervous than Darcy about the dinner. Only her unwavering devotion to Jane compelled her to dine with the Bingleys, the Hursts, and Mr. Darcy. She was the most concerned about the latter.

Her success in putting Mr. Darcy from her mind after Kent was greatly exacerbated by his arrival, with Mr. Bingley, on the day of the proposal. Elizabeth recalled how Darcy openly watched her, and how she, hungry to know where his mind was after the Wickham incident, had stared back.

When she closed her eyes, she saw him, and she chastised herself for what felt like the hundredth time. She did not even like the man! It was true he had been polite to her in Kent, but there was quite a difference between polite and the scenarios which played out behind her eyelids. This man had shown he was not predisposed to passion, so all Elizabeth could imagine was she created feelings where there were none, and fell in love with an imaginary Darcy rather than the real one.

No good could come of a fondness for Mr. Darcy. He was gentlemanly towards her (which was a great deal better than his behavior upon their first meeting), but that was all. He had made it clear he would never consider someone like her a suitable partner, so the best thing for her to do would be to forget about him entirely--which was much more difficult to do, now Bingley and Jane were engaged. Whereas Elizabeth had previously been upset she might never see Darcy again, upon reflection, it seemed a much safer state of affairs than what had transpired.

Regardless, she had given Jane her word, and she would keep it. Although she knew the upcoming evening would be a trial, she would endure it out of love for her sister.

As time tends to do when one dreads something, the day went by quickly, and soon Jane and Elizabeth were dressed and in the carriage to Longbourn.

"It is good Mr. Bingley proposed. Otherwise Mama might have decided to send both of us on horseback."

Jane laughed, and allowed it was much more pleasant to ride in a carriage than to ride on horseback, at least if it was raining.

"I really am so happy for you, my dearest Jane." Elizabeth had expressed the same sentiment frequently over the previous days. She knew how repetitive she must have sounded, but the engagement between Jane and Mr. Bingley came so close to not happening that Elizabeth felt the need to periodically reassert her joy.

"Thank you for coming with me, Lizzy. I did not relish the idea of dining with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst without you at my side."

"I would not feed you to those wolves alone. Although it does seem that your Mr. Bingley must have worked to ensure their behavior."

"We certainly cannot know until after the dinner is over. We must be ever vigilant."

"Indeed we must. Your love for Mr. Bingley must be great for you to wish yourself allied with that family."

Jane smiled sweetly. "It is so great I would endure dozens of nasty sisters."

"Well then, perhaps it is good you shall only have to endure the two."

They laughed the rest of the way to Netherfield.


	22. Chapter 22

Darcy adjusted his cravat in the hallway mirror.

"There is no need to put on airs for this dinner, Mr. Darcy," said Caroline Bingley, coming up behind him. "However, I would be more than happy to assist..."

She reached towards him to straighten his cravat, and Darcy deftly took a step backwards.

"No need, Miss Bingley. It is already quite straight."

"Do you think there will be some sort of barnyard animal in the carriage with them when they arrive? Perhaps there shall be a cow following behind."

"I see no reason for them to do that. They are, after all, the daughters of a gentleman."

His meaning was not lost on Miss Bingley, and she paled. However, she was not yet willing to give up Darcy as an ally.

"I know Charles is set on marrying Miss Bennet. It would be a shame if something were to happen at dinner tonight that made him realize what an error that is."

This time, Darcy was the one who understood the allusion.

"I cannot imagine anything that might dissuade Bingley from marrying Miss Bennet. Any disturbances during dinner would reflect very poorly on the cause of them, and, even though your brother appears to be in a charitable mood when it comes to forgiving, I suspect his tolerance will not stretch much further."

Miss Bingley raised an eyebrow at Mr. Darcy, turned on her heel, and went to find Mrs. Hurst, whom Miss Bingley knew would be much more receptive to her repartee.

***

Elizabeth took a deep breath as she exited the carriage, bracing herself for what was to come. However, the first face she saw was a friendly one.

"Welcome!" Mr. Bingley called. "Miss Elizabeth, thank you so much for accepting my invitation! I could not be more delighted."

Elizabeth curtsied. "Well, I shall soon call you my brother. Accepting your invitation was not at all a difficult choice."

"Come inside," Bingley said to his guests. "Everyone is in a gay mood, and I think we shall have a most agreeable evening!"

Elizabeth did not entirely believe him, but she committed herself to trying her best, for Jane's sake.

They went inside and met the rest of the party in one of the sitting rooms.

Darcy arose upon their entrance, and after a moment, Mr. Hurst did as well.

"Good evening, ladies. I hope you are well."

"Indeed we are, Mr. Darcy," said Jane, giving Bingley a smile. "I daresay I have never been happier."

Mrs. Hurst whispered something in Miss Bingley's ear, and Miss Bingley smirked. This was not lost on Elizabeth, but she did not say anything. She would not be the one to make a scene and disturb Jane and Bingley's happy night.

Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst behaved somewhat better as everyone sat down and made light conversation. Their expensive schooling shined through, and they initially gave Elizabeth no additional reason to dislike them. However, Caroline Bingley could only bear so much; if she had to be civil to the Bennets, she could not resist needling Mr. Darcy in that unpleasant way she intended to be flirtatious.

"Mr. Darcy, they are getting married all about us! Perhaps we are the next to be wed."

All heads swiveled to stare at her. This was much more direct a path than her flirtations normally took. Miss Bingley blushed as she realized the implications of what she had said.

"I did not mean we should wed each other! That is not to say we ought not wed each other..." She realized she did not improve the situation and closed her mouth, finally realizing silence would not serve her any worse than continuing to talk.

"Oh, no one would misunderstand you, Caroline, dear," Mrs. Hurst said quickly. "We all understood entirely that you were saying you and Mr. Darcy would be the next ones to find your respective spouses."

Miss Bingley nodded, relieved for her sister's help.

"But what of Miss Elizabeth? She is also unattached, unless things changed since we last spoke in Kent." He looked at her, waiting for her confirmation he was correct.

"No, things have not changed. I am so very full of joy for Jane and Mr. Bingley, I do not know that I would have any room in my heart for additional felicitation right now."

Miss Bingley opened her mouth to speak, and then thought better of it. Elizabeth was relieved for her silence.

The party remained silent for a moment, with no one certain what to say next.

"Perhaps we should go through," Mr. Bingley said. "Dinner must be almost ready."

They agreed, relieved for the diversion from a conversation that had not gone well for any of them.

Soon, they were seated. Elizabeth found herself seated between Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Hurst, with Miss Bingley across the table from her. It did not serve to make her more comfortable with the evening.

The first course was served, and they all ate silently for a moment. Finally, Mr. Darcy broke the silence.

"Your family, Miss Elizabeth, are they well?"

"Indeed they are. One might think my mother had never attended a wedding before, based on the excitement she is evincing."

She realized as soon as she had spoken that she had only given Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst additional ammunition. The sisters shared a knowing glance across the table.

"And how is your sister Mrs. Collins?"

"She is quite well, based on the last letter she sent."

"You must give her my regards."

"I shall, although you may give them to her yourself. She and Mr. Collins will be coming for the wedding."

"Ah, of course. Will Mr. and Mrs. Wickham attend?"

Elizabeth glanced at him sharply, looking to see if he mocked her. Their last conversation in Kent had been about Lydia and Wickham; did he bring it up now to humiliate her? She saw no malice in his face, and she softened the scathing reply she had been contemplating.

"We are unsure, as of yet. Mr. Wickham has been stationed in the north, and Lydia did not know if they would be able to travel."

"How is your sister enjoying her marriage, Miss Eliza?" Caroline Bingley said. Unlike Darcy, her question dripped with malice.

"My sister Kitty is very pleased with her situation in Kent."

"And what of your other sister? Did I not hear she wed recently, and with a special license?"

"Lydia also seems to be taking to married life quite well," Elizabeth said, maintaining a serenity in her voice she did not feel in the slightest. "As Mr. Wickham was being transferred, the special license was required so they could be wed prior to traveling."

"Indeed," said Mrs. Hurst. "Your sister would not want any intimation of scandal."

Mr. Bingley could see the course of the conversation and he was not going to tolerate it. "And indeed there was no intimation, Louisa. Miss Bennet explained the need for the special license."

Mrs. Hurst suddenly became very interested in her soup, and abandoned her previous line of questioning.

"And your sister, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked. "Is she well?"

He smiled. "Georgiana is quite well indeed. I just received a letter from her. She left town and returned to Pemberley, and she reports the estate is as serene as ever."

"Oh, I do so miss Miss Darcy!" Caroline Bingley exclaimed. "What an accomplished young woman, and so gracious. I had at one time hoped--" she cut off her statement, glancing down the table at Bingley and Jane. "That is, I hope to see her again soon."

"I am not certain when that time may be, but I shall send her your regards," Darcy said coolly.

Miss Bingley smiled winningly at him, as if he had responded effusively.

"Oh, that shall be wonderful. I do so wish to see her again."

"Yes, you mentioned."

Once again the table fell silent.

Mr. Darcy spoke quietly, so only Elizabeth heard him. "Perhaps we ought to resurrect the conversation on the suitability of wit in the modern young lady. That was a spirited one, if I recall correctly."

Elizabeth smiled at him, thinking of the night when he had defended the importance of wit to Lady Catherine.

"What are the two of you discussing? Come, you must share with the rest of the table," Miss Bingley demanded.

Elizabeth and Darcy caught each other's eyes. Miss Bingley had echoed almost exactly the words Lady Catherine spoke. Elizabeth hid her smile behind her hand, and Darcy raised the right side of his mouth in a small smile.

"We were only discussing the quality of this dinner. Bingley, your cook does fine work," Darcy said.

"Does he not? I have been nothing if not pleased."

Mr. Hurst spoke for what Elizabeth believed was the first time since dinner had been served. "He makes an excellent ragout. I always say you should judge a cook based on his ability to master the basics."

Mr. Hurst gave a nod as if to indicate he was finished speaking, and he launched once again into devouring every speck of food on his plate.

The diners looked at one another for a moment, wondering how to follow that particular outburst.

Eventually, Mrs. Hurst spoke.

"Jane, dear, I do not know how you plan to attire yourself, but I brought the bonnet I wore for my own wedding, if you would like to wear it. It was crafted by one of the finest milliners in London."

Miss Bingley's mouth twisted. "Yes, it was--two years ago. Honestly, Louisa, that bonnet is so out of fash--" She stopped abruptly and glanced around the table, not least at the cross look her brother sent her way. "That is to say a high quality bonnet is timeless. Jane, you shall look lovely in it."

"Thank you," Jane said softly, nodding to include both of Mr. Bingley's sisters. "But I have already chosen my bonnet, and it has special value to my mother. She would be quite upset if I did not wear it."

"Well, we cannot upset your mother" Mrs. Hurst said.

"No, indeed. We should not ever hear the end of it!" added Miss Bingley.

Elizabeth stared at Jane with a mixture of admiration and shock. She was privy to every detail of the wedding planning, and she knew full well Jane had not yet made plans for her bonnet. Jane had just told a flat lie to Mr. Bingley's sisters. Elizabeth was, frankly, proud of her.

The conversation turned to the plans for the wedding. Elizabeth could tell Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst found some of the decisions to be unfashionable, and she could also tell Mr. Bingley cared not a single whit. He was happy as long as Jane was happy, and Jane was happy to be wedding Mr. Bingley, regardless of the minor details.

"I would suggest we throw a ball for the benefit of the young Miss Bennets, but it seems that the youngest of you are already wed. I do not suppose Miss Mary would welcome a ball?"

"Indeed not," Elizabeth laughed at the idea, and Jane smiled.

"Perhaps just a luncheon, then, but one to which we can invite our neighbors," Mr. Bingley said.

"That would be lovely. It is decided, then."


	23. Chapter 23

Jane and Bingley's wedding day was as simple as they planned, and as beautiful as they hoped. They were surrounded by friends and family as they said their vows, and afterwards, everyone attended a lovely luncheon.

Elizabeth was in high spirits. There were times when she imagined this day would never arrive, but now her sister and Mr. Bingley were wed, and all felt right in the world. She was not the only Bennet who enjoyed the day. Lydia, Kitty, and their husbands sat talking, and the only one who appeared bored was Mr. Wickham. Elizabeth did not feel a bit of sorrow for him. Mrs. Bennet clutched her husband's arm, and he looked down at her lovingly. Even Mary had a fine time. She had been speaking to a young man with glasses for quite some time, and, based on the smile on her face, Elizabeth thought the conversation was going well.

Mr. Darcy stood in the corner, a glass of something potent in his hand and a relaxed look on his face. Elizabeth did not recall ever seeing him look so much at peace, and it warmed her heart. It seemed so long ago she had been angry with him. Enough time passed that she was fairly certain he had not spoken of Lydia's impropriety, and she was relieved for his discretion in the matter. The more she thought about it, the more she realized his behavior towards her in Kent had been gracious, and he had, at the risk of revealing his sister's secret, done what he could to warn her away from a bad situation. How might this man be reconciled with the man who declared her to be "not handsome enough?”

Darcy, for his part, was satisfied just to watch the joy around him. Bingley was clearly besotted with his new wife, and Darcy saw just how much she loved him in return. It was a lovely day to spend honoring the newly-wed couple.

"What a miserable day," a voice hissed in his ear. He turned to find Caroline Bingley standing next to him. "I do not know how he could shackle himself to someone like her."

"Perhaps you should be more generous towards your new sister," Darcy responded coolly.

"She is no sister of mine. Just because she married my brother does not mean I must accept it."

"No, it certainly does not. However, it might behoove you to consider who finances your lifestyle."

She smiled. "Are you making me an offer, Mr. Darcy?"

"I am afraid not, Miss Bingley. What I meant is you may want to consider being a bit more civil towards Mrs. Bingley."

The smile slid off Miss Bingley's face, and she suddenly seemed to hear her sister calling for her. Mr. Darcy had not heard a thing, but perhaps it was the case Miss Bingley's ears were sharper than his.

Darcy glanced across the room and saw Elizabeth Bennet looking at him. She gave him a small smile and he raised his glass just a bit in her direction. She nodded at the gesture, and then her attention was drawn away by her mother.

He smiled to himself. The fact Bingley and Jane were wed meant he would have many more opportunities to see the delightful Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Perhaps someday he could finally atone for the harsh words she overheard when they first met. Darcy allowed himself to engage in a daydream where it was not Bingley's wedding luncheon, but his own. Elizabeth was dressed in a light colored dress that would befit a bride. He watched her, thinking of how much he wanted her, and how unlikely it was that what he dreamed of would ever come to pass.

***

Elizabeth had no idea the thoughts that went through Darcy's head. She was preoccupied with observing Mary and the young man to whom she spoke. He was a pleasant looking fellow, with a shock of blond hair that did not seem receptive to behaving itself. Several times during the conversation, he ran a hand through it somewhat self-consciously, hoping to tame it. He was not successful, but Mary did not seem to mind.

Elizabeth had never seen her sister so interested in a conversation with anyone. She dearly hoped they were not discussing Fordyce's Sermons, although Mary would probably very much enjoy such a conversation. As Elizabeth looked on, Mary laughed at something the young man said.

Jane walked over and stood next to Elizabeth. "That is Bingley's cousin, John Davis. Although he does not look old enough, he already has his own parish in Bedfordshire."

"He is not married, I hope?"

"Indeed not, although Bingley mentioned Mr. Davis had spoken recently of his desire to enter into the institution."

Elizabeth raised her eyes at her sister. "Who might have thought Mary would be the one to find love today?"

Jane glanced at Mr. Darcy. "Perhaps not just Mary."

"Oh, Jane, do not tease me so! I should never have confessed my tolerance of Mr. Darcy had I thought it would lead to such a thing."

Jane hugged her. "I am sorry, my darling Lizzy. I only wish you to be as happy as I am."

"I do not believe anyone could be as happy as you, nor half as lovely. If I could aspire to even a fraction of your joy, it might make me reconsider my stance on marriage."

"They are not all unworthy, Lizzy," said Jane, looking towards Mr. Wickham. "Do not let your experiences make you bitter."

"Oh, why are we talking of such things on this glorious day? Go, be with your husband, who is the worthiest man I know."

Elizabeth smiled as she watched Jane return to Bingley's side. Clearly there was true love in the world, and the newly married couple was an exquisite example.

***

After luncheon was served, some of the guests left, but many stayed to spend a pleasant afternoon conversing, playing cards, and listening to music. Mary offered to play, which made Elizabeth quite nervous. However, Mary performed quite well, and Mr. Davis did not take his eyes off her. When she had finished, he applauded louder than anyone, and praised her effusively. Mary flushed a shade of pink Elizabeth thought looked quite fetching on her.

Elizabeth found a settee that was somewhat secluded, hoping for a few moments to collect her thoughts. However, she had not been sitting for more than a few moments before someone stepped in front of her.

"Miss Bennet," Mr. Darcy said. "Might I sit and converse with you for a moment?"

"You are very welcome to, Mr. Darcy. I only hoped to catch my breath. I have been speaking with people since I arrived."

"Shall I leave you, then? I do not wish to intrude.

"No, please do stay. We have not had a chance to speak in so long."

He was pleased she seemed to want to talk with him. He perched on the opposite end of the settee, making certain to leave a proper distance between them.

"How have you been since we last spoke in Kent?"

Elizabeth blushed, remembering that conversation. "I am well. As you are no doubt aware, the issue with my sister resolved to everyone's satisfaction--well, nearly everyone."

Wickham was still stuck in conversation with Lydia, Kitty, and Mr. Collins.

"I am glad to hear that. It pained me to see how upset you were."

She glanced at his face, trying to determine whether he spoke the truth or whether he was just voicing appropriate niceties.

"Thank you, sir. And how have you been? It was a shame we did not get to bid one another farewell."

Darcy looked at his hands. "My apologies. I had an urgent note awaiting me when I returned to Rosings, and it required my immediate departure."

"All is well, I hope?"

"Yes, the issue has been satisfactorily resolved."

"I am glad to hear it. Do you plan to stay long at Netherfield?"

"I have not yet decided. There is something compelling about Hertfordshire that makes me want to stay."

"Well, that is a change," she said with a laugh. "I do believe the first night I met you, you wished to leave the county at once and never return."

"I was too hasty in my judgments, and far too harsh."

She smiled. She knew how difficult these words must be for him to speak.

"I am glad your feelings have thawed."

"Indeed," he replied. "So am I.”

They sat in companionable silence, listening to the pianoforte. Elizabeth recalled Georgiana Darcy played the instrument, as well.

"How is your sister?"

"She is well, thank you." He broke into a broad smile that lit up his features. "She is a delightful young woman. I wish you could meet her."

Elizabeth was startled. "I would very much like to do so. It is unfortunate our paths are unlikely to cross socially."

"That may no longer be entirely true. I have a house in London where Georgiana enjoys staying, so perhaps if you visit your sister at their townhouse, the opportunity might arise."

Elizabeth agreed such an opportunity might well present itself. She was still surprised at the thought that Mr. Darcy wished for her to meet his sister.

Bingley called to Darcy from across the room.

"You will excuse me, Miss Bennet," he said with a bow. "I very much enjoyed the opportunity to converse with you."

Almost as soon as Mr. Darcy left, Lydia hurried over and sat down next to Elizabeth.

"I saw you speaking with Mr. Darcy."

"Yes, we had a lovely conversation."

"I have long thought you are too harsh on him. Why, when he visited Wickham and me in London, he--"

Lydia darted her eyes, making sure Elizabeth had heard her "misstatement.”

"Well, never you mind. But I find him to be a most agreeable man."

"What do you mean, when he found you and Wickham in London?"

Lydia sighed dramatically. "Well, if you are going to keep pestering me about it, I suppose I have no choice other than to tell you. Mr. Darcy was the witness at our wedding."

Elizabeth felt faint. "How is that possible?"

"He and Wickham are childhood friends. I suppose Mr. Darcy just wanted to support Wickham and help with our wedding."

"When did he arrive?"

"Goodness, I do not know. What an odd question to ask, Lizzy! No, wait--it was the Friday before we wed."

Elizabeth did a quick calculation in her head and determined Darcy must have gone directly to London from Kent. That was why he had left so quickly! It was not to escape the embarrassment of what Lydia had done, but rather to see if he could assist in making the best of it. Then another thought occurred to her, and she blanched. Elizabeth remembered her conversation with her father after Lydia and Wickham married: "dear Heavens, no one would marry Lydia for less than five thousand pounds.”

"Did Uncle Gardiner find you, as well?"

"You are asking the strangest questions. No, he was not there."

"Lydia, who financed your wedding?"

"That is a rather impertinent question, Lizzy. I know you were raised better than to ask such things. However, if you must know, Mr. Darcy handled everything, and gave us a very generous wedding gift of one thousand pounds as well!"

Elizabeth suspected the gift had been sizably larger than Lydia was aware.

"Mr. Darcy…” Elizabeth whispered.

"Are you quite well, Lizzy? Are you tired? You are acting in a very strange way. I am going to fetch Mama."

"No! That is, there is no need to trouble her. I think I just need some air."

"Perhaps so. Now, if you will excuse me, I must return to my husband."

Lydia flounced off, and Elizabeth took a walk around the grounds in an attempt to clear her head.


	24. Chapter 24

Elizabeth did not even have the benefit of discussing what she learned with Jane. The sisters would usually spend time together before bed, laughing and gossiping, but Longbourn felt quiet and alone that night. Elizabeth was happy for Jane, but she was just a little sad she lost her full-time confidante, especially when she had so much to puzzle out.

The idea that Mr. Darcy rushed away from Rosings to resolve Lydia's situation changed Elizabeth's thinking in so many ways. First, it meant he had not been scared away by what happened with Lydia and Wickham; rather, he resolved to help almost immediately, and then put that plan into action. What reason might he have for formulating such a bold plan? Could it really just be guilt over the fact Darcy had not exposed Wickham's scheme after what happened with Georgiana?

Or was there another reason for his willingness to help? Starting with their conversations in Kent, Mr. Darcy had been warm and engaging in a way Elizabeth had never imagined possible. Was it possible there was more than kindness behind his actions?

She could no longer deny her attraction to him. She was scared to think of it in such bald terms, but it was true. She knew his initial haughtiness hid a surprisingly sweet and passionate man, and she could not help herself. What good did it do, though, for her to come to this realization?

_There is no way you can honestly think Mr. Darcy would want a wife like you. Has he not made this clear?_

He _had_ made it clear, but then he changed. She remembered bits of their conversation where he seemed almost flirtatious, and she did not suspect he was a man who often behaved in such a manner. He contributed to the prevention of Lydia's situation turning into a scandal, and Elizabeth suspected he also interceded with Mr. Bingley on Jane's behalf. He indicated, in ways big and small, that he was interested in the well-being of the Bennet family.

Perhaps his actions were motivated entirely by guilt, but Elizabeth did not believe that to be the case. She hoped it was not the case. However, even if Darcy did return her feelings, what would come of it? She was not the sort of woman a man like he was destined to marry. He would marry an heiress, someone who was used to the upper echelons of society. Perhaps, then, what they had was just a flirtation. He would be gallant to her, and that would be the limit of what they could have together. He would go on to marry his heiress, and she would find a parish priest or a husband with a small estate. Things would go back to the way they ought to be.

Her heart, however, disagreed with this idea. When she closed her eyes, she imagined what it would be like to kiss him, to wrap her arms around his neck and feel his arms around her. She flushed at the thought, but it was a delicious, warming fire which she did not want to end.

She fell asleep with Darcy's name on her lips and dreamed during the night of a time when they could be together.

***

The next morning, Elizabeth rose early, but not earlier than a very happy Mary.

"Mary, that is a lovely tune you are humming."

"I did not realize I did so," Mary said, her ears turning red.

"Did you have a pleasant time yesterday?"

"I did, indeed."

"And the young man you were speaking with, was he quite amiable?"

"Oh, yes. His name is John Davis, and he is a pastor. He is so well-spoken and polite, Lizzy. He spent the entire luncheon speaking with me."

"That is lovely, Mary. Do you have plans to see him again?"

"We agreed to sit together in church on Sunday. I am so excited to worship with him. He is very pious and learned."

"I am sure he thinks the same of you."

"Oh, I do not know. I do not believe he esteems me in such a way."

"Mary, you just said he spoke with you for the entire luncheon, and you have made plans to see one another again. Was the idea to sit together in church yours or his?"

The blush moved to the sides of Mary's face and quickly made its way towards her cheeks.

"It was his."

"Then there is your answer," Elizabeth said with a smile. "Mary, you are lovely, smart, and devout. What else could he want in a wife?"

The blush covered Mary's face by that point. Elizabeth worried he teased her sister too much.

"I am sorry, Mary. I just want you to realize you are special, and that a man would be lucky for you to agree to be his wife."

Mary smiled at her. "Thank you, Lizzy."

Both sisters went in opposite directions, but they both carried the warmth from their conversation with them throughout the day.

***

Mary and John Davis did indeed sit together in church the following Sunday. Elizabeth tried her best not to stare at the two of them, but every time she managed a glance, the two of them were stealing glances at one another and smiling more than the sermon would indicate. Mary might not be optimistic, but Elizabeth fully expected another wedding announcement soon.


	25. Chapter 25

After about a week, Elizabeth began to adjust to living without Jane. It helped that Jane was not far away, and Elizabeth could visit whenever she wanted. However, life at Longbourn was dull without Jane to laugh with, even with Mary's improved mood.

Mr. John Davis returned to his parish, but he promised to return soon. His stated purpose was to visit his cousins at Netherfield, but everyone was well aware the real attraction for him was Miss Mary Bennet. Elizabeth had not imagined she might be the last of the Bennet sisters to marry, but it was beginning to seem like more of a possibility with each passing day.

Mr. Darcy remained at Netherfield, but Elizabeth had seen very little of him since Bingley and Jane's wedding. She was therefore surprised when she glanced out the window and saw him striding towards the front door. She could not imagine what his purpose might be. She stopped in front of a mirror to inspect her hair and straighten the bodice of her dress, and she arrived in the foyer just as Darcy knocked on the door.

"Mr. Darcy. It is good to see you."

"And you as well, Miss Bennet."

They looked at one another for a moment.

"Might I come in?" he asked.

"Oh, certainly. Pardon me. Do come in. I will ring for tea."

She showed him into a sitting room.

"I will call my mother and my sister."

"Actually, it is you I intended to speak to."

"I? What is it I can do for you, Mr. Darcy?"

He momentarily lost what he was about to say as he imagined all the ways he could answer that question.

"I know our relationship has not always been agreeable, and I take complete responsibility for that. Please allow me to apologize for the way have treated you."

"Mr. Darcy, there is no need. Although I agree things might not have begun well, I very much appreciate the information you gave me during our time in Kent. You were not obligated to do so, and it is clear your intention was to keep me from making a mistake."

He glanced at her. He had not realized she felt so warmly about his actions when he was at Rosings, and it gave him courage for what he planned to ask her.

"I would do anything to protect you," he said, softly.

She looked at him, surprised by the tender direction of the conversation. Perhaps her recent dreams were not so unlikely.

The warmth of her eyes further bolstered his courage.

"Miss Bennet, I am aware this is very sudden, and I would entirely understand if you need time to consider what I am about to ask."

Elizabeth felt light-headed. Could Mr. Darcy honestly be preparing to propose to her?

Suddenly the door to the sitting room flew open, and a servant from Netherfield rushed in.

"Begging your pardon Miss Bennet, Mr. Darcy. This letter arrived shortly after you left, sir, and the messenger stated the letter contains information that is urgent and of the utmost importance. The sender requested you read it immediately."

Darcy was on his feet, striding over to take the letter. He broke the seal and read it.

"Your intrusion is most improper, but I shall ignore it due to the severity of this letter," he said to the servant. "Return to Netherfield at once and tell my valet to prepare to leave immediately."

"Yes, sir," the servant said, and rushed out as quickly as he entered.

"My dear Miss Bennet," Darcy said. "I would like to say nothing could tear me from this conversation, but this letter intimates there is a crisis to which I must personally attend. I do hope you will be willing to resume this conversation later."

Elizabeth nodded in agreement. "Of course, Mr. Darcy. I look forward to your return."

"As do I," he said, giving her a small smile. "Once again, I do apologize for my swift departure. I hope to speak with you again very soon."

He bowed, turned, and was gone.

"Hurry back," Elizabeth whispered at his back.

***

Darcy rode his horse hard on his way to Rosings. The letter that he received from his aunt was vague, but it seemed there was an emergency of some sort. His aunt wrote:

_Your presence is needed urgently at Rosings. There has been an unexpected turn of events which could potentially cause much pain for our family. However, this unfortunate circumstance could yet be avoided, and your prompt attention could provide the assistance we need. Please hurry, as I am unsure how much time is left to prevent this tragedy._

Darcy's first thought was that his aunt or his cousin was ill. However, he could not envision a situation in which his presence could improve their health. Multiple possibilities played themselves out in his head as he rode. He had never received a letter such as this from his aunt. She did not tend to urgency in such a way, and that only contributed to his concern over the reason for the letter. He knew continuing to speculate would be of limited usefulness, and so he instead drove his horse faster, pushing to get to Rosings as soon as possible and provide whatever assistance he could to forestall the approaching catastrophe.

***

Elizabeth was unsure how to proceed after Mr. Darcy's departure. Her first task was decided for her, however: Mrs. Bennet came to see who had recently arrived.

"Mr. Darcy?" Mrs. Bennet said, her brow furrowing. "But what on earth would that unpleasant man want here?"

"I am unsure. He was called away before he could tell me the purpose for his visit."

"Well, there is nothing he could have said that would affect us. I know he is a friend of my dear Mr. Bingley, but Mr. Darcy has never proven himself a friend to us."

Elizabeth said nothing to contradict her mother, although she knew Mr. Darcy had helped the Bennets more than any of them aside from her might ever realize. She desperately hoped he returned to her as quickly as


	26. Chapter 26

Darcy arrived at Rosings Park after a hard ride. There was no time to recover from his trip. He needed to ascertain the reason his aunt had required his presence so quickly. He had expected to find Colonel Fitzwilliam in attendance as well, to assist with the emergency. However, the outside of Rosings showed no sign of anyone else, or anything whatsoever out of the ordinary.

He handed his horse to a groom and hurried inside. He was taken to his aunt's favorite sitting room and announced. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim light, but when they did, he saw Lady Catherine and Anne sat in their normal seats. They were alone aside from Ann's companion.

"Lady Aunt, I came as soon as I received your message. What is the emergency?"

Lady Catherine stared at him for a moment, and looked so cross Darcy began to wonder how he might have upset her.

"This must not continue," Lady Catherine finally said.

"What must not?"

"I know your intentions towards that silly Bennet girl. I do not know why you devil me like this, Darcy. Acting like you are not an engaged man. There shall be no more of it. You and Anne will wed next week. I shall procure the license, and Mr. Collins will perform the ceremony. Then you will be safe from the ambitions of girls like Elizabeth Bennet."

"I do apologize, Aunt, but what is the emergency?" Darcy repeated. "Your letter made it sound as if the matter was quite urgent."

"And it is! Are you not listening to me? It is vital you are married to Anne as soon as possible, before you make a mistake which cannot be undone."

Darcy glanced at Anne, and found her staring down at her hands. She certainly did not have the look of a woman who was hoping for an offer to be made.

"How does this make you feel, Cousin Anne?"

"Why do you speak to her? She is, of course, happy with the idea. There shall be plenty of time to talk after you wed. Do not oppose me on this, boy. This wedding shall happen."

"Aunt, you do not have the right to determine who I might marry."

"I do not have the right!" sputtered Lady Catherine. "What of your mother, Darcy? What of her final wishes?"

"My mother did not leave any indication of a plan for Anne and I to wed, and neither had my father heard of any such agreement."

"Are you saying my sister and I needed a contract to make such a decision? We needed no such thing. We knew our word was more than enough collateral for such an agreement. Why is our word not enough for you now?"

"With respect, I will not have my life arranged by an agreement which was made when I was a young child."

"You would disrespect your mother in such a way? You would ignore her dying wish, and all for a girl as uncouth as Elizabeth Bennet?"

"This has nothing to do with Miss Bennet. Whether I intend to marry her or not has nothing to do with whether Anne and I will be wed."

"Do you think me a fool? Of course these issues are related. You are throwing Anne over for that woman."

"The fact of it is, I have no intention of marrying Anne." Then to Anne, "My apologies for being so blunt, Cousin."

Anne looked at him with wide eyes and shook her head just once.

"How dare you! You come into my house and insult my daughter? I cannot believe your nerve."

"I am here at your invitation, because you insinuated there was an emergency."

"If this is not an emergency, I do not know what is. I promised your mother I would look after you. You might not respect her memory, but I assure you I do, and I will not watch you go against her wishes in such a way." Her mouth twisted into a smirk. "If you are worried about the Bennet girl, rest assured I informed her of your impending engagement."

"Even you would not be so meddlesome."

"Would I not? It is not meddlesome; I am simply doing Miss Bennet the favor of informing her she ought not expect an offer from you, as you are in no position to make one."

Darcy gritted his teeth. "I expect your interference in my life, but you have gone too far in involving Miss Bennet."

"I? I involved Miss Bennet? This is your fault, Darcy. I am just assisting you in resolving this unfortunate situation."

"Anne and I shall not be married. I do not understand why you think you can force this union."

"Darcy, you are the only one who does not see the benefit of this marriage," said Lady Catherine, exasperated.

"That is untrue." The quiet voice startled both Lady Catherine and Darcy into silence, and they turned to look at Anne. "I do not wish to marry Fitzwilliam. I apologize, Cousin, but since you already stated you do not wish to marry me, I hope you are not offended."

"Anne, this is no time for you to be obstinate," Lady Catherine said.

"It is not obstinate for me to provide input into whom I wish to wed. I love Fitzwilliam, as a kinsman. I have no interest in becoming his wife. I do not want it, and I shall not consent to it."

"Do you see what you accomplished?" Lady Catherine said, turning to Darcy. "Now you have confused Anne with your ridiculous and selfish ideas."

"I am not confused." Anne was wracked with a fit of coughing, and then took a moment to recover. "I will not wed him. Mother, this marriage will not happen."

"The audacity! To be spoken to in such a way in my own home!"

"I shall resolve the issue for you, and leave as soon as possible," Darcy said.

"You will do no such thing. You will stay at Rosings Park, and we will discuss this again in the morning, once you have had the opportunity to consider this issue."

"No, I am afraid I must leave at once. My deepest apologies, Cousin, for the unpleasantry of this situation."

Anne smiled at him. She could have used the moment to chastise her mother further, but she felt Lady Catherine understood the situation clearly, for the first time.

"Lady Catherine. Cousin Anne. I wish you well," Darcy said, with a bow. With that, he turned and exited the room without so much as a single glance back.

He took lodging in the nearby town that night. It was his intention to return to Hertfordshire the following morning. He only hoped his aunt had been bluffing about the letter to Elizabeth. He needed to return as soon as possible to ensure things were made right with the woman he hoped to marry.


	27. Chapter 27

Elizabeth read the letter in her trembling hands for the third time. It made no more sense than it had on its first two readings.

_Dear Miss Bennet,_

_By the time this letter reaches you, my nephew, Mr. Darcy, will be formally engaged to my daughter, Miss Anne de Bourgh. I know you may still see him socially. I expect you will behave properly and cease all attentions to a man who is promised to another. I am concerned your rather unconventional upbringing might lead you to be unaware of the requirements of proper social interaction, so I feel it is incumbent upon me to ensure you will behave in a way befitting a gentleman's daughter, even if that gentleman is of meager means. I only hope to spare you any additional humiliation._

_Lady Catherine de Bourgh_

Frankly, Elizabeth could not decide which part of the letter caused her the most offense; why would Lady Catherine take the time to compose and send a letter to her? Did she consider Elizabeth that great a threat for Mr. Darcy's emotions?

Elizabeth mused this must be the emergency to which the letter Mr. Darcy received referred. His aunt had called him back to Rosings to be wed to his cousin.

Lady Catherine's timing was both impeccable and frustrating. The final conversation she had with Darcy led Elizabeth to believe he was interested in her. Why would he do such a thing if he had been promised to his cousin? She did not believe him that callous.

She read the letter over once more, a single tear smearing the ink and running down the page. She and Darcy had been so close, only for things to fall apart at the last moment.

Elizabeth very much wanted to speak with Jane. It was so difficult to no longer have her confidante under the same roof. However, she was unsure if she could see Mr. Bingley without thinking of Mr. Darcy, and she certainly did not want to see Caroline Bingley or Louisa Hurst at that moment. Elizabeth wrote a quick note asking Jane to visit her at Longbourn as soon as she could, sent it off, and settled in with the book she was reading and a steaming cup of tea. She did not expect to get much reading done, but nonetheless she was grateful for the distraction.

Elizabeth had stared at the book for nearly two hours when she heard the sound of hooves outside. It sounded like a single horse, and she was a bit surprised Jane came on horseback instead of taking the smaller curricle. Still, it showed Jane was anxious to come to her sister's aid, and for that Elizabeth was relieved.

She ran to the front door to greet her sister, and was surprised to find Mr. Darcy, rather than Jane, on the back of the horse.

"Miss Bennet," he said as he dismounted and passed off the reins, "There is much I must speak with you about. Is this a convenient time?"

"It is, Mr. Darcy." She was unsure if she would be able to control her emotions if he told her he was to wed his cousin, but she had to know his intentions. "Do come in."

Darcy nodded and followed her inside. As they walked through the door, they met Mrs. Bennet coming down the stairs.

"Mr. Darcy! Whatever are you doing here?"

"My apologies, madam. All will be made clear soon, but at this moment I need to speak with Miss Bennet. Is that possible?"

"Certainly," said Mrs. Bennet, although she sounded not the slightest bit certain. "Would you like me to sit with the two of you, or...?"

"I would prefer to speak with Miss Bennet alone. You have my word nothing untoward will happen."

"I do not know of what you refer, but I cannot imagine my Elizabeth would do anything improper," Mrs. Bennet said, regaining herself a bit.

"Nor do I, madam."

"Well then, you may sit in the sitting room and converse. I will be in with tea in a quarter of an hour."

"That is kind of you."

He followed Elizabeth into the sitting room and said, "What I will tell you is for your ears alone, so we must be swift."

"Please. I cannot bear it any longer. Are you engaged to your cousin? I received a letter from your aunt."

Darcy ran a hand through his hair, tousling it. "I was hoping I would arrive before that letter," he said.

"Are you?" Elizabeth repeated.

"I am not, nor shall I ever be."

Elizabeth audibly sighed in relief. "But your aunt said you were to be married.”

"My aunt believes she exerts quite a bit more control than she actually does. I do not wish to marry Anne, and she does not wish to marry me. All my aunt can do is voice her opinion, which, as you have seen, she does quite often and very loudly."

Elizabeth smiled, remembering the dinner at Rosings Park.

"Indeed, there is only one woman who I hope to take as my wife, and if she will not have me, I do not wish to marry at all." He stepped forward and took her hands. "Please, Miss Bennet, say you will marry me. I love you, most ardently, and I desperately hope you share at least a sliver of the sentiments I have for you."

Elizabeth just looked at him, hoping to press the memory of this moment into her mind forever. She then answered his question with one of her own.

"Is it true you convinced Mr. Wickham to marry Lydia?"

He looked startled, but answered in the affirmative.

"And do I also have you to thank for reuniting Jane and Bingley?"

"I did nothing other than tell Bingley the truth of the situation. He made the correct decision entirely on his own."

"Why would you do all this?"

"Miss Bennet, you must know I did it for you. I would do anything to prevent you pain."

Elizabeth blinked the tears out of her eyes.

"I will," she whispered.

"You will?"

"Yes. Oh, yes."

Darcy resisted the urge to pick her up and twirl her. Instead, he traced the lines of her palms with his thumbs.

"My dearest Elizabeth. You do not know how happy you make me."

"But I do, for I feel it myself."

***

There was just enough time for Darcy to tell Elizabeth the details of his trip to Rosings. She tried to be appropriately horrified by Lady Catherine's actions, but she was so deliriously happy she could not manage such an emotion.

Exactly fifteen minutes after their conversation began, Mrs. Bennet bustled into the sitting room carrying a plate of tea.

"Mrs. Bennet, if you will excuse me," Mr. Darcy said. "I must speak with your husband for a moment, and then I will return."

"What on Earth could he want to speak with your father about?" Mrs. Bennet asked. She looked at Elizabeth for the first time and saw her face tear-stained but brilliant with joy.

"Did he…are you…?” she asked faintly.

Elizabeth only smiled at her mother.

"Pardon me, Mama. I shall return in a moment."

"What is going on?" Mrs. Bennet yelled at her daughter's retreating back.

Elizabeth waited outside her study until Darcy exited. He gave her a small smile, and she slipped through the door and closed it.

Her father stared at her with shock.

"I did not think you liked him, Lizzy."

"I do, Papa. I do. I wish to marry him."

"And there is no compulsion forcing this union?"

"None but our love for one another."

"Well, that is reason enough to me. Let us go tell your mother the good news before she suffers from apoplexy."

Mr. Bennet offered his daughter his arm, and she took it. They walked out the door of the study and towards the only other man Elizabeth Bennet loved.


	28. Chapter 28

Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy were married exactly six weeks after his return from Rosings Park. The church was full of well-wishers, although the groom's aunt was noticeably absent from the festivities. Elizabeth did receive a warm letter from Miss Anne de Bourgh, welcoming her to the family. Elizabeth responded immediately, touched by Miss de Bourgh's kind wishes.

Darcy paced outside the church prior to the service, waiting for his intended. Her carriage arrived moments later, and Elizabeth stepped out. Jane exited behind her to smooth her dress and straighten her bonnet. Mr. Bennet also rode in the carriage. Elizabeth hugged her beloved sister before turning to her father. He escorted her to her bridegroom. Elizabeth kissed her father's cheek before taking Darcy's arm.

"Darcy, I know you will take good care of her," Mr. Bennet said, with a hitch in his voice.

"I shall, sir. You have my word."

Mr. Bennet wiped his eyes quickly, and then escorted Jane into the church.

"Here we are," Elizabeth whispered.

"Indeed. You have never looked lovelier."

She blushed in a way that was befitting a bride and gave him a lovely smile.

"Let us go. I cannot wait a moment longer to make you my wife."

They passed through the doors of the church and on to the rest of their lives.

***

The Bingleys were delighted to host the wedding breakfast. They invited friends and relatives from near and far. Elizabeth and Darcy spent much of their time responding to the well-wishes of those who loved them.

Mr. John Davis attended the reception, and spent the entire time at Mary Bennet's side. Elizabeth had never seen Mary happier. She suspected another engagement would be announced quite soon. She did not know who would be more thrilled at the prospect--Mary or their mother. Who would have presumed, a year earlier, that all the Bennet girls would either be married or have matrimonial prospects?

There was one guest neither Elizabeth nor Darcy cared to see, but he was married to Elizabeth's sister, so his invitation was required.

"Darcy, old chap," said Wickham, sidling up beside him. "Good thing for you I chose the other sister, hmm? You can show your thanks with any sort of gift you feel appropriate."

Darcy gripped Wickham's arm just above the elbow.

"This is a joyous day, so I will not ruin it by giving you what you so sorely deserve," he growled. "But if you do anything, ever, to bring my wife shame or grief, you shall rue it."

"A threat, on your wedding day? Darcy, how very improper."

"I shall not have it, Wickham. Jest all you like, but watch yourself."

Darcy released his grip on Wickham's arm, and Wickham, for all his bravado, scurried away to find his wife.

"What was that?" Elizabeth asked, returning to Darcy's side.

"I was just coming to an understanding with my new brother by marriage. There is no need to trouble yourself with it."

He gave her a reassuring kiss on the forehead, and she beamed a smile up at him.

"I never would have imagined I would be this happy," she whispered.

"Nor would I. But now we have found this happiness, I do not intend to ever let it go."


End file.
